CHAPTER X.
CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN.
When the first shock is over and the inevitable realized and accepted,those who tend a long illness are apt to fall into a routine of lifewhich helps to make the days seem short. The apparatus of nursing is gottogether. Every day the same things need to be done at the same hoursand in the same way. Each little appliance is kept at hand; and sad andtired as the watchers may be, the very monotony and regularity of theirproceedings give a certain stay for their thoughts to rest upon.
But there was little of this monotony to help Mrs. Ashe and Katy throughwith Amy's illness. Small chance was there for regularity or exactsystem; for something unexpected was always turning up, and needfulthings were often lacking. The most ordinary comforts of the sick-room,or what are considered so in America, were hard to come by, and much ofKaty's time was spent in devising substitutes to take their places.
Was ice needed? A pailful of dirty snow would be brought in, full ofstraws, sticks, and other refuse, which had apparently been scraped fromthe surface of the street after a frosty night. Not a particle of itcould be put into milk or water; all that could be done was to make thepail serve the purpose of a refrigerator, and set bowls and tumblers init to chill.
Was a feeding-cup wanted? It came of a cumbrous and antiquated pattern,which the infant Hercules may have enjoyed, but which the modern Amyabominated and rejected. Such a thing as a glass tube could not be foundin all Rome. Bed-rests were unknown. Katy searched in vain for anIndia-rubber hot-water bag.
But the greatest trial of all was the beef tea. It was Amy's sole food,and almost her only medicine; for Dr. Hilary believed in leaving Naturepretty much to herself in cases of fever. The kitchen of the hotel sentup, under that name, a mixture of grease and hot water, which could notbe given to Amy at all. In vain Katy remonstrated and explained theprocess. In vain did she go to the kitchen herself to translate acarefully written recipe to the cook, and to slip a shining five-francpiece in his hand, which it was hoped would quicken his energies andsoften his heart. In vain did she order private supplies of the best ofbeef from a separate market. The cooks stole the beef and ignored therecipe; and day after day the same bottle-full of greasy liquid cameupstairs, which Amy would not touch, and which would have done her nogood had she swallowed it all. At last, driven to desperation, Katyprocured a couple of stout bottles, and every morning slowly andcarefully cut up two pounds of meat into small pieces, sealed the bottlewith her own seal ring, and sent it down to be boiled for a specifiedtime. This answered better, for the thieving cook dared not tamper withher seal; but it was a long and toilsome process, and consumed more timethan she well knew how to spare,--for there were continual errands to bedone which no one could attend to but herself, and the interminableflights of stairs taxed her strength painfully, and seemed to growlonger and harder every day.
At last a good Samaritan turned up in the shape of an American lady witha house of her own, who, hearing of their plight from Mrs. Sands,undertook to send each day a supply of strong, perfectly made beef tea,from her own kitchen, for Amy's use. It was an inexpressible relief, andthe lightening of this one particular care made all the rest seem easierof endurance.
Another great relief came, when, after some delay, Dr. Hilary succeededin getting an English nurse to take the places of the unsatisfactorySister Ambrogia and her substitute, Sister Agatha, whom Amy in herhalf-comprehending condition persisted in calling "Sister NutmegGrater." Mrs. Swift was a tall, wiry, angular person, who seemed made ofequal parts of iron and whalebone. She was never tired; she could liftanybody, do anything; and for sleep she seemed to have a sort ofantipathy, preferring to sit in an easy-chair and drop off into littledozes, whenever it was convenient, to going regularly to bed for anight's rest.
Amy took to her from the first, and the new nurse managed herbeautifully. No one else could soothe her half so well during thedelirious period, when the little shrill voice seemed never to be still,and went on all day and all night in alternate raving or screaming or,what was saddest of all to hear, low pitiful moans. There was noshutting in these sounds. People moved out of the rooms below and oneither side, because they could get no sleep; and till the arrival ofNurse Swift, there was no rest for poor Mrs. Ashe, who could not keepaway from her darling for a moment while that mournful wailing soundedin her ears.
Somehow the long, dry Englishwoman seemed to have a mesmeric effect onAmy, who was never quite so violent after she arrived. Katy was morethankful for this than can well be told; for her great underlyingdread--a dread she dared not whisper plainly even to herself--was that"Polly dear" might break down before Amy was better, and then what_should_ they do?
She took every care that was possible of her friend. She made her eat;she made her lie down. She forced daily doses of quinine and port-winedown her throat, and saved her every possible step. But no one, howeveraffectionate and willing, could do much to lift the crushing burden ofcare, which was changing Mrs. Ashe's rosy fairness to wan pallor andlaying such dark shadows under the pretty gray eyes. She had taken smallthought of looks since Amy's illness. All the little touches which hadmade her toilette becoming, all the crimps and fluffs, had disappeared;yet somehow never had she seemed to Katy half so lovely as now in theplain black gown which she wore all day long, with her hair tucked intoa knot behind her ears. Her real beauty of feature and outline seemedonly enhanced by the rigid plainness of her attire, and the charm oftrue expression grew in her face. Never had Katy admired and loved herfriend so well as during those days of fatigue and wearing suspense, orrealized so strongly the worth of her sweetness of temper, herunselfishness and power of devoting herself to other people.
"Polly bears it wonderfully," she wrote her father; "she was all brokendown for the first day or two, but now her courage and patience aresurprising. When I think how precious Amy is to her and how lonely herlife would be if she were to die, I can hardly keep the tears out of myeyes. But Polly does not cry. She is quiet and brave and almost cheerfulall the time, keeping herself busy with what needs to be done; she nevercomplains, and she looks--oh, so pretty! I think I never knew how muchshe had in her before."
All this time no word had come from Lieutenant Worthington. His sisterhad written him as soon as Amy was taken ill, and had twice telegraphedsince, but no answer had been received, and this strange silence addedto the sense of lonely isolation and distance from home and help whichthose who encounter illness in a foreign land have to bear.
So first one week and then another wore themselves away somehow. Thefever did not break on the fourteenth day, as had been hoped, and mustrun for another period, the doctor said; but its force was lessened, andhe considered that a favorable sign. Amy was quieter now and did notrave so constantly, but she was very weak. All her pretty hair had beenshorn away, which made her little face look tiny and sharp. Mabel'sgolden wig was sacrificed at the same time. Amy had insisted upon it,and they dared not cross her.
"She has got a fever, too, and it's a great deal badder than mine is,"she protested. "Her cheeks are as hot as fire. She ought to have ice onher head, and how can she when her bang is so thick? Cut it all off,every bit, and then I will let you cut mine."
"You had better give ze child her way," said Dr. Hilary. "She's in nostate to be fretted with triffles [trifles, the doctor meant], and in zeend it will be well; for ze fever infection might harbor in zat doll'shead as well as elsewhere, and I should have to disinfect it, whichwould be bad for ze skin of her."
"She isn't a doll," cried Amy, overhearing him; "she's my child, and yousha'n't call her names." She hugged Mabel tight in her arms, and glaredat Dr. Hilary defiantly.
So Katy with pitiful fingers slashed away at Mabel's blond wig till herhead was as bare as a billiard-ball; and Amy, quite content, patted herchild while her own locks were being cut, and murmured, "Perhaps yourhair will all come out in little round curls, darling, as Johnnie Carr'sdid;" then she fell into one of the quietest sleeps she had yet had.
It
was the day after this that Katy, coming in from a round of errands,found Mrs. Ashe standing erect and pale, with a frightened look in hereyes, and her back against Amy's door, as if defending it from somebody.Confronting her was Madame Frulini, the _padrona_ of the hotel. Madame'scheeks were red, and her eyes bright and fierce; she was evidently in arage about something, and was pouring out a torrent of excited Italian,with now and then a French or English word slipped in by way ofpunctuation, and all so rapidly that only a trained ear could havefollowed or grasped her meaning.
"What is the matter?" asked Katy, in amazement.
"Oh, Katy, I am so glad you have come," cried poor Mrs. Ashe. "I canhardly understand a word that this horrible woman says, but I think shewants to turn us out of the hotel, and that we shall take Amy to someother place. It would be the death of her,--I know it would. I never,never will go, unless the doctor says it is safe. I oughtn't to,--Icouldn't; she can't make me, can she, Katy?"
"Madame," said Katy,--and there was a flash in her eyes before which thelandlady rather shrank,--"what is all this? Why do you come to troublemadame while her child is so ill?"
Then came another torrent of explanation which didn't explain; but Katygathered enough of the meaning to make out that Mrs. Ashe was quitecorrect in her guess, and that Madame Frulini was requesting, nay,insisting, that they should remove Amy from the hotel at once. Therewere plenty of apartments to be had now that the Carnival was over, shesaid,--her own cousin had rooms close by,--it could easily be arranged,and people were going away from the Del Mondo every day because therewas fever in the house. Such a thing could not be, it should notbe,--the landlady's voice rose to a shriek, "the child must go!"
"You are a cruel woman," said Katy, indignantly, when she had graspedthe meaning of the outburst. "It is wicked, it is cowardly, to come thusand attack a poor lady under your roof who has so much already to bear.It is her only child who is lying in there,--her only one, do youunderstand, madame?--and she is a widow. What you ask might kill thechild. I shall not permit you or any of your people to enter that doortill the doctor comes, and then I shall tell him how you have behaved,and we shall see what he will say." As she spoke she turned the key ofAmy's door, took it out and put it in her pocket, then faced the_padrona_ steadily, looking her straight in the eyes.
"Mademoiselle," stormed the landlady, "I give you my word, four peoplehave left this house already because of the noises made by little miss.More will go. I shall lose my winter's profit,--all of it,--all; it willbe said there is fever at the Del Mondo,--no one will hereafter come tome. There are lodgings plenty, comfortable,--oh, so comfortable! I willnot have my season ruined by a sickness; no, I will not!"
Madame Frulini's voice was again rising to a scream.
"Be silent!" said Katy, sternly; "you will frighten the child. I amsorry that you should lose any customers, madame, but the fever is hereand we are here, and here we must stay till it is safe to go. The childshall not be moved till the doctor gives permission. Money is not theonly thing in the world! Mrs. Ashe will pay anything that is fair tomake up your losses to you, but you must leave this room now, and notreturn till Dr. Hilary is here."
Where Katy found French for all these long coherent speeches, she couldnever afterward imagine. She tried to explain it by saying thatexcitement inspired her for the moment, but that as soon as the momentwas over the inspiration died away and left her as speechless andconfused as ever. Clover said it made her think of the miracle ofBalaam; and Katy merrily rejoined that it might be so, and that nodonkey in any age of the world could possibly have been more gratefulthan was she for the sudden gift of speech.
"But it is not the money,--it is my prestige," declared the landlady.
"Thank Heaven! here is the doctor now," cried Mrs. Ashe.
The doctor had in fact been standing in the doorway for several momentsbefore they noticed him, and had overheard part of the colloquy withMadame Frulini. With him was some one else, at the sight of whom Mrs.Ashe gave a great sob of relief. It was her brother, at last.
When Italian meets Italian, then comes the tug of expletive. It did notseem to take one second for Dr. Hilary to whirl the _padrona_ out intothe entry, where they could be heard going at each other like twofurious cats. Hiss, roll, sputter, recrimination, objurgation! In fiveminutes Madame Frulini was, metaphorically speaking, on her knees, andthe doctor standing over her with drawn sword, making her take backevery word she had said and every threat she had uttered.
"Prestige of thy miserable hotel!" he thundered; "where will that bewhen I go and tell the English and Americans--all of whom I know, everyone!--how thou hast served a countrywoman of theirs in thy house? Dostthou think thy prestige will help thee much when Dr. Hilary has fixed ablack mark on thy door! I tell thee no; not a stranger shalt thou havenext year to eat so much as a plate of macaroni under thy base roof! Iwill advertise thy behavior in all the foreign papers,--in Figaro, inGalignani, in the Swiss Times, and the English one which is read by allthe nobility, and the Heraldo of New York, which all Americans peruse--"
"Oh, doctor--pardon me--I regret what I said--I am afflicted--"
"I will post thee in the railroad stations," continued the doctor,implacably; "I will bid my patients to write letters to all theirfriends, warning them against thy flea-ridden Del Mondo; I will apprisethe steamboat companies at Genoa and Naples. Thou shalt see what comesof it,--truly, thou shalt see."
Having thus reduced Madame Frulini to powder, the doctor nowcondescended to take breath and listen to her appeals for mercy; andpresently he brought her in with her mouth full of protestations andapologies, and assurances that the ladies had mistaken her meaning, shehad only spoken for the good of all; nothing was further from herintention than that they should be disturbed or offended in any way, andshe and all her household were at the service of "the little sick angelof God." After which the doctor dismissed her with an air ofcontemptuous tolerance, and laid his hand on the door of Amy's room.Behold, it was locked!
"Oh, I forgot," cried Katy, laughing; and she pulled the key out ofher pocket.
"You are a hee-roine, mademoiselle," said Dr. Hilary. "I watched you asyou faced that tigress, and your eyes were like a swordsman's as heregards his enemy's rapier."
"Oh, she was so brave, and such a help!" said Mrs. Ashe, kissing herimpulsively. "You can't think how she has stood by me all through, Ned,or what a comfort she has been."
"Yes, I can," said Ned Worthington, with a warm, grateful look at Katy."I can believe anything good of Miss Carr."
"But where have _you_ been all this time?" said Katy, who felt thisflood of compliment to be embarrassing; "we have so wondered at nothearing from you."
"I have been off on a ten-days' leave to Corsica for moufflon-shooting,"replied Mr. Worthington. "I only got Polly's telegrams and letters daybefore yesterday, and I came away as soon as I could get my leaveextended. It was a most unlucky absence. I shall always regret it."
"Oh, it is all right now that you have come," his sister said, leaningher head on his arm with a look of relief and rest which was good tosee. "Everything will go better now, I am sure."
"Katy Carr has behaved like a perfect angel," she told her brother whenthey were alone.
"She is a trump of a girl. I came in time for part of that scene withthe landlady, and upon my word she was glorious! I didn't suppose shecould look so handsome."
"Have the Pages left Nice yet?" asked his sister, rather irrelevantly.
"No,--at least they were there on Thursday, but I think that they wereto start to-day."
Mr. Worthington answered carelessly, but his face darkened as he spoke.There had been a little scene in Nice which he could not forget. He wassitting in the English garden with Lilly and her mother when hissister's telegrams were brought to him; and he had read them aloud,partly as an explanation for the immediate departure which they madenecessary and which broke up an excursion just arranged with the ladiesfor the afternoon. It is not pleasant to have plans interfered with; an
das neither Mrs. Page nor her daughter cared personally for little Amy,it is not strange that disappointment at the interruption of theirpleasure should have been the first impulse with them. Still, this didnot excuse Lilly's unstudied exclamation of "Oh, bother!" and though shespeedily repented it as an indiscretion, and was properly sympathetic,and "hoped the poor little thing would soon be better," Amy's unclecould not forget the jarring impression. It completed a process ofdisenchantment which had long been going on; and as hearts are sometimescaught at the rebound, Mrs. Ashe was not so far astray when she builtcertain little dim sisterly hopes on his evident admiration for Katy'scourage and this sudden awakening to a sense of her good looks.
But no space was left for sentiment or match-making while still Amy'sfate hung in the balance, and all three of them found plenty to doduring the next fortnight. The fever did not turn on the twenty-firstday, and another weary week of suspense set in, each day bringing adecrease of the dangerous symptoms, but each day as well marking alessening in the childish strength which had been so long and severelytested. Amy was quite conscious now, and lay quietly, sleeping a greatdeal and speaking seldom. There was not much to do but to wait and hope;but the flame of hope burned low at times, as the little life flickeredin its socket, and seemed likely to go out like a wind-blown torch.
Now and then Lieutenant Worthington would persuade his sister to gowith him for a few minutes' drive or walk in the fresh air, from whichshe had so long been debarred, and once or twice he prevailed on Katyto do the same; but neither of them could bear to be away long fromAmy's bedside.
Intimacy grows fast when people are thus united by a common anxiety,sharing the same hopes and fears day after day, speaking and thinking ofthe same thing. The gay young officer at Nice, who had counted so littlein Katy's world, seemed to have disappeared, and the gentle,considerate, tender-hearted fellow who now filled his place was quite adifferent person in her eyes. Katy began to count on Ned Worthington asa friend who could be trusted for help and sympathy and comprehension,and appealed to and relied upon in all emergencies. She was quite atease with him now, and asked him to do this and that, to come and helpher, or to absent himself, as freely as if he had been Dorry or Phil.
He, on his part, found this easy intimacy charming. In the reaction ofhis temporary glamour for the pretty Lilly, Katy's very difference fromher was an added attraction. This difference consisted, as much asanything else, in the fact that she was so truly in earnest in what shesaid and did. Had Lilly been in Katy's place, she would probably havebeen helpful to Mrs. Ashe and kind to Amy so far as in her lay; but thethought of self would have tinctured all that she did and said, and theneed of keeping to what was tasteful and becoming would have influencedher in every emergency, and never have been absent from her mind.
Katy, on the contrary, absorbed in the needs of the moment, gave littleheed to how she looked or what any one was thinking about her. Her habitof neatness made her take time for the one thorough daily dressing,--thebrushing of hair and freshening of clothes, which were customary withher; but, this tax paid to personal comfort, she gave little furtherheed to appearances. She wore an old gray gown, day in and day out,which Lilly would not have put on for half an hour without a largebribe, so unbecoming was it; but somehow Lieutenant Worthington grew tolike the gray gown as a part of Katy herself. And if by chance hebrought a rose in to cheer the dim stillness of the sick-room, and shetucked it into her buttonhole, immediately it was as though she weredecked for conquest. Pretty dresses are very pretty on prettypeople,--they certainly play an important part in this queer littleworld of ours; but depend upon it, dear girls, no woman ever hasestablished so distinct and clear a claim on the regard of her lover aswhen he has ceased to notice or analyze what she wears, and just acceptsit unquestioningly, whatever it is, as a bit of the dear human lifewhich has grown or is growing to be the best and most delightful thingin the world to him.
The gray gown played its part during the long anxious night when theyall sat watching breathlessly to see which way the tide would turn withdear little Amy. The doctor came at midnight, and went away to comeagain at dawn. Mrs. Swift sat grim and watchful beside the pillow of hercharge, rising now and then to feel pulse and skin, or to put a spoonfulof something between Amy's lips. The doors and windows stood open toadmit the air. In the outer room all was hushed. A dim Roman lamp, fedwith olive oil, burned in one corner behind a screen. Mrs. Ashe lay onthe sofa with her eyes closed, bearing the strain of suspense inabsolute silence. Her brother sat beside her, holding in his one of thehot hands whose nervous twitches alone told of the surgings of hope andfear within. Katy was resting in a big chair near by, her wistful eyesfixed on Amy's little figure seen in the dim distance, her ears alertfor every sound from the sick-room.
So they watched and waited. Now and then Ned Worthington or Katy wouldrise softly, steal on tiptoe to the bedside, and come back to whisper toMrs. Ashe that Amy had stirred or that she seemed to be asleep. It wasone of the nights which do not come often in a lifetime, and whichpeople never forget. The darkness seems full of meaning; the hush, ofsound. God is beyond, holding the sunrise in his right hand, holding thesun of our earthly hopes as well,--will it dawn in sorrow or in joy? Wedare not ask, we can only wait.
A faint stir of wind and a little broadening of the light roused Katyfrom a trance of half-understood thoughts. She crept once more intoAmy's room. Mrs. Swift laid a warning finger on her lips; Amy wassleeping, she said with a gesture. Katy whispered the news to the stillfigure on the sofa, then she went noiselessly out of the room. The greathotel was fast asleep; not a sound stirred the profound silence of thedark halls. A longing for fresh air led her to the roof.
There was the dawn just tingeing the east. The sky, even thus early,wore the deep mysterious blue of Italy. A fresh _tramontana_ wasblowing, and made Katy glad to draw her shawl about her.
Far away in the distance rose the Alban Hills above the dim Campagna,with the more lofty Sabines beyond, and Soracte, clear cut against thesky like a wave frozen in the moment of breaking. Below lay the ancientcity, with its strange mingling of the old and the new, of past thingsembedded in the present; or is it the present thinly veiling the richand mighty past,--who shall say?
Faint rumblings of wheels and here and there a curl of smoke showed thatRome was waking up. The light insensibly grew upon the darkness. A pinkflush lit up the horizon. Florio stirred in his lair, stretched hisdappled limbs, and as the first sun-ray glinted on the roof, raisedhimself, crossed the gravelled tiles with soundless feet, and ran hissoft nose into Katy's hand. She fondled him for Amy's sake as she stoodbent over the flower-boxes, inhaling the scent of the mignonette andgilly-flowers, with her eyes fixed on the distance; but her heart was athome with the sleepers there, and a rush of strong desire stirred her.Would this dreary time come to an end presently, and should they be setat liberty to go their ways with no heavy sorrow to press them down, tobe care-free and happy again in their own land?
A footstep startled her. Ned Worthington was coming over the roof ontiptoe as if fearful of disturbing somebody. His face looked resoluteand excited.
"I wanted to tell you," he said in a hushed voice, "that the doctor ishere, and he says Amy has no fever, and with care may be considered outof danger."
"Thank God!" cried Katy, bursting into tears. The long fatigue, thefears kept in check so resolutely, the sleepless night just passed, hadtheir revenge now, and she cried and cried as if she could never stop,but with all the time such joy and gratitude in her heart! She wasconscious that Ned had his arm round her and was holding both her handstight; but they were so one in the emotion of the moment that it did notseem strange.
"How sweet the sun looks!" she said presently, releasing herself, with ahappy smile flashing through her tears; "it hasn't seemed really brightfor ever so long. How silly I was to cry! Where is dear Polly? I must godown to her at once. Oh, what does she say?"
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