The Story of a Doctor's Telephone Part 46

The doctor handed the reins to Mary and went inside. A girl fourteen or fifteen years old with a bald-headed baby on her arm came out of the house and down the path.

"Won't you come in?"

"No, thank you. We will be going home in a minute."

The girl set the baby on the gate-post. "She's the smartest baby I ever saw," she said. "She's got a whole mouthful of teeth already."

"And how old is she?"

"She was ten months old three weeks ago last Sat.u.r.day."

As today was Thursday, Mary was on the point of saying, "She will be eleven months old in a few days then," but checked herself--she understood. It would detract from the baby's smartness to give her eleven months instead of only ten in which to accomplish such wonders in the way of teeth. The doctor came out and they started. Just before they came out to the main road they pa.s.sed an old deserted house. No signs of life were about it except the very luxuriant life in the tall jimsons and ragweeds growing about it and reaching almost to the top of the low doorway, yawning blackly behind them.

"I think the longest night of my life was spent in that house about sixteen years ago. It's the only house I was ever in where there was nothing at all to read. There wasn't even an almanac."

Mary laughed. "An almanac is a great deal better than nothing, my dear.

I found that out once upon a time when I had to stay in a house for several hours where there was just one almanac and not another printed page. I read the jokes two or three times till they began to pall and then set to work on the signs. I'll always have a regard for them because they gave me a lift through those tedious hours."

They were not far from the western edge of the piece of woodland they were traversing and all about them was the soft red light of the setting sun. They could see the sun himself away off through the straight and solemn trunks of the trees. A mile farther on Mary uttered a sudden exclamation of delight.

"See that lovely bittersweet!"

"I see, but don't ask me to stop and get you some."

"I won't, but I'll ask you to stop and let _me_ get some."

"I wouldn't bother about it. You'll have to scramble over that ditch and up the bank--"

"I've scrambled over worse things in my life," she said, springing from the buggy and picking her way down the intervening ditch. The bright red berries in their flaring yellow hoods were beautiful. She began breaking off the branches. When she had gathered a large bunch and was turning toward the buggy she saw a vehicle containing two women approaching from the opposite direction. There was a ditch on either side of the road which, being narrow at this point, made pa.s.sing a delicate piece of work. The doctor drew his horse to one side so that the wheels of the buggy rested on the very brink and waited for them to pa.s.s; he saw that there was room with perhaps a foot or two to spare.

On came the travelers and--the front wheels of the two vehicles were locked in a close embrace. For a minute the doctor did some vigorous thinking and then he climbed out of the buggy. It was a trying position.

He could not say all of the things he wanted to--it would not be polite; neither did he want to act as if it were nothing because Mary might not understand the extent of the mischief she had caused and how much out of humor he was with her. It would be easier if she were only out of hearing instead of looking at him across the ditch with apologetic eyes.

The doctor's horse began to move uneasily but the other stood perfectly still.

"He's used to this sort of thing, perhaps," said the doctor with as little sarcasm as possible.

"Yes, we have run into a good many buggies and things," said one of the women, cheerfully.

"Women beat the devil when it comes to driving," thought the doctor within himself. "They'll drive right over you and never seem to think they ought to give part of the road. And they do it everywhere, not only where there are ditches." He restrained his speech, backed the offending vehicle and started the travelers on. While he was doing so his own steed started on and he had a lively run to catch him.

Mary had thought of turning back to break off another spray of the bittersweet but John's profanity was rising to heaven. Diplomacy required her to get to the buggy and into it at once. This she did and the doctor plunged in after her.

"Forgive me for keeping you waiting," she said gently. She held the bittersweet out before her. "Isn't it lovely, John?"

A soft observation turneth away wrath. The doctor's was oozing away sooner than he wished.

They drove on for a while in silence. The soft, still landscape dotted here and there with farm houses and with graceful elm and willow trees, was lit up and glorified by the after-glow. The evening sky arching serenely over a quiet world, how beautiful it was! And as Mary's eyes caught a glittering point of light in the blue vault above them, she sang softly to herself:

"O, thou sublime, sweet evening star, Joyful I greet thee from afar."

For a while she watched the stars as one by one they twinkled into view, then drawing her wraps more closely about her, she leaned back in the carriage and gave herself up to pleasant reflection, and before she realized it the lights of home were twinkling cheerily ahead.

CHAPTER XVI.

"You are not going out tonight, John, no matter how often the 'phone rings. I positively will not let you." Mary spoke with strong emphasis.

All the night before he had been up and today had been a hard day for him. She had seldom seen him so utterly weary as he was tonight. He had come home earlier than usual and now sat before the fire, his head sunk on his breast, half asleep.

"Go right to bed, dear, then you can really rest."

The doctor, too tired to offer any resistance, rose and went to the bedroom. In a few minutes his wife heard regular sonorous sounds from the bed. (When she spoke of these sounds to John, Mary p.r.o.nounced it without the first _o_.)

Glad that he had so soon fallen into deep sleep she settled back in her chair. "I'll protect him tonight," she thought, "though fiery darts be hurled."

She thought of many things. The fire-light gleamed red upon the hearth.

All was still. The sounds from the adjoining room had ceased. Something stirred within her and she rose and went softly to the bedside of her sleeping husband. In the half-light she could see the strong, good face.

Dear John so profane yet so patient, so severe yet so tender, what would it be to face life without him. She laid her hand very lightly on the hand which lay on the counterpane, then took it away lest it disturb the sleeper. She went back to her chair and opening a little volume took from it a folded sheet. Twice before today had she read the words written within it. A dear friend whose husband had recently died had written her, inclosing them. She read them again now:

IN MEMORIAM,--A PRAYER.

"O G.o.d! The Father of the spirits of all flesh, in whatsoever world or condition they be,--I beseech Thee for him whose name, and dwelling place, and every need Thou knowest. Lord, vouchsafe him peace and light, rest and refreshment, joy and consolation in Paradise, in the ample folds of Thy great love. Grant that his life, so troubled here, may unfold itself in Thy sight, and find employment in the s.p.a.cious fields of Eternity.--If he hath ever been hurt or maimed by any unhappy word or deed of mine, I pray Thee, of Thy great pity, to heal and restore him, that he may serve Thee without hindrance.

"Tell him, O gracious Father, if it may be,--how much I love him and miss him, and long to see him again; and if there may be ways in which he may come, vouchsafe him to me as guide and guard, and grant me such sense of his nearness as Thy laws permit. If in aught I can minister to his peace, be pleased of Thy love to let this be; and mercifully keep me from every act which may deprive me of the sight of him, as soon as our trial time is over, or mar the fullness of our joy when the end of the days hath come."

Mary brushed away a tear from her cheek. "This letter has awakened unusual thoughts. I will--"

A sharp peal from the telephone.

"What is it?"

"Is the doctor at home?"

"Yes. He has gone to bed and is fast asleep."

"Oh! We wanted him to come down to see my sister."

"He was up all last night and is not able to come--"

"Can I just talk to him about her?"

Mary sighed. To rouse him from his sorely needed sleep was too cruel.

Then she spoke. "I must not disturb him unless it is absolutely necessary. I shall be sitting here awake--call me again in a little while if you think it necessary."

"A--l--l r--i--g--h--t--" and a sob came distinctly to the listener's ear.