The Story of a Doctor's Telephone Part 17

Besides, she might hear you."

The doctor was growling his way to his clothes.

"I suppose I've got to go down there," was all the answer he made. When he was dressed and the screen had banged behind him after the manner of screens, Mary settled herself to sleep which came very soon. But she was soon routed out of it. She went to the 'phone, expecting to hear a querulous woman's voice asking, "Has the doctor started yet?" and her lips were framing the old and satisfactory reply, "Yes, he must be nearly there now," when a man's voice asked, "Is this Dr. Blank's residence?"

"Yes."

"Is the doctor there?"

"No, but he will be back in about twenty minutes."

"Will you please tell him to come to J. H. Twitch.e.l.l's?"

"Yes, I'll send him right down."

"Thank you."

She went back to her bed room then, turning, retraced her steps. The doctor could come home by way of Twitch.e.l.l's as their home was not a great distance from the Brownson's.

She rang the Brownson's and after a little while a voice answered.

"Is this Mrs. Brownson?"

"Yes."

"May I speak to Dr. Blank. I think he must be there now."

"He's been here. He's gone home."

Mary knew by the voice that its owner had not enjoyed getting out of bed. "I wonder how she would like to be in my place," she thought, smiling. She dared not trust herself to her pillow. She might fall asleep and not waken when her husband came in. She wondered what time it was. Up there on the wall the clock was ticking serenely away--she had only to turn the b.u.t.ton beside her to find out. But she did not turn it.

In the sweet security of the dark she felt safe. In one brief flash of light some prowling burglar might discover her.

She sat down by the open window and looked up into the starlit sky. They were out tonight in countless numbers. Over there toward the northwest, lying along the tops of the trees was the Great Dipper. Wasn't it?

Surely that particular curve in the handle was not to be found in any other constellation. She tried to see the Dipper itself but a cherry tree near her window blotted it out. Bend and peer as she might the branches intervened. It was tantalizing. She rose irresolute. Should she step out doors where the cherry tree would not be in the way? Not for a thousand dippers! She walked to another window. That view shut even the handle out. She looked for the Pleiades. They were not in the section of sky visible from the window where she stood. She turned and listened.

Did she hear footsteps down the walk? She ought to be hearing her husband's by this time. He could not be walking at his usual gait. There he came! She went to the door looked through the screen and halted him as he drew near the steps.

"John, you'll have to take another trip. Mr. Twitch.e.l.l has 'phoned for you."

He turned and was soon out of sight. "Now! I can go to bed with a clear conscience," and Mary sought her pillow. But she had better stay awake until he had time to get there lest Mr. Twitch.e.l.l should 'phone again.

In five or ten minutes the danger would be over. She waited. At last she closed her eyes to sleep. But what would be the use? In twenty minutes more her husband would come in and rouse her out of it. She had better just keep awake till he got back. And the next thing Mary heard was a snore. She opened her eyes to find it was broad daylight and her husband was sleeping soundly beside her.

CHAPTER VII.

One afternoon in June Mary went into her husband's office.

"Has _The Record_ come?" she asked.

"Yes, it's on the table in the next room."

She went into the adjoining room and seated herself by the table. Taking up _The Record_, she turned to the editorial page, but before she could begin reading she heard a voice in the office say, "How do you do, Doctor?"

"How do you do, Mr. Jenkins. Take a seat."

"No, I guess I'll not sit down. I just wanted to get--a prescription."

"The baby's better, isn't it?"

"Oh, the baby's all right, but I want a prescription for myself."

"What sort of prescription?"

"I have to take a long ride in the morning, driving cattle, and I want a prescription for a pint of whiskey."

Mary listened for her husband's reply. It came.

"Jenkins, I have taken many a long ride through dust and heat, through rain and snow and storm, and I never yet have had to take any whiskey along."

"Well, I have a little trouble with my heart and--"

"The trouble's in your head. If you'd throw away that infernal pipe--"

"Oh, it's no use to lecture me on that any more."

"Very well, your tobacco may be worth more to you than your heart."

"Well, will you give me that prescription?"

"Certainly I won't. You don't need whiskey and you'll not get it from me."

"Go to h-ll!"

"All right, I'll meet _you_ there." At which warm farewell between these two good friends, Mary leaned back in her chair and laughed silently.

Then she mused: "People will not be saved from themselves. If only they would be, how much less of sin and sickness and sorrow there would be in the world."

Presently the doctor came in.

"I have a trip to make tonight, Mary. How would you like a star-light drive?" Mary said she would like it very much indeed.

Accordingly, at sunset the doctor drove up and soon they were out in the open country. Chatting of many things they drove along and by and by Mary's eyes were attracted to a beautiful castle up in the clouds in the west, on a great golden rock jutting out into the blue. Far below was a grand woman's form in yellow floating robes. She stood with face upturned and arms extended in an att.i.tude of sorrow as if she had been banished from her father's house.

There comes the father now. Slowly, majestically, an old man with flowing beard of gold moves toward the edge of the great rock. Now he has reached it. He bends his head and looks below. The att.i.tude of the majestic woman has changed to that of supplication. And now the father stretches down forgiving arms and the queenly daughter bows her head against the mighty wall and weeps in gladness. Now castle and rock, father and daughter slowly interchange places and vanish from her sight.

The gold turns to crimson, then fades to gray. Just before her up there in the clouds is a huge lion, couchant. See! he is going to spring across the pale blue chasm to the opposite bank. If he fails he will come right down into the road--"Oh!"

"What is it?" asked the doctor, looking around, and Mary told him with a rather foolish smile.