Patchwork Part 42

PHBE was glad when David came to her with the news that he had been accepted for the navy and was going to Norfolk.

"That's so far away he won't come home soon," she thought. "It'll give me a chance to arrange for the operation. I hope he goes soon. That's a dreadful thing to say! The days are all too short for Mother Bab, I know."

If the days seemed Mercury-shod to the blind mother she did not complain.

"It's hard to let you go," she said to her boy, "but it would be harder to see you a slacker. Phbe is going to read to me now when you go.

She'll be up here often."

"Yes, that makes it easier for me to go, mommie."

"Don't you worry about me. Phbe will be good company for me and she'll write my letters for me. We'll send you so many you'll be busy reading them."

"I'm going to make her promise that," he declared with a laugh.

He exacted the promise as Mother Bab and Phbe stood with him and waited for the train to carry him away. "Mother, you and Phbe must take me to the train," he had said. "I want you to be the last picture I see as the train pulls out." Phbe had a.s.sented, though she thought ruefully of the deficiency of the English language, which has but one form for singular _you_ and plural _you_. She wondered whether he included her in the picture he wanted to cherish in his memory. Now, when he was going away from her she knew that she loved her old playmate, that he was the one man in the world for her. She loved David, she would always love him! She wanted to run to him and tell him so, but centuries of restriction had bequeathed to her the universal fear of womanhood to reveal a love that has not been sought. She felt that in all her life she had never wanted anything so keenly as she wanted to hear David Eby tell her that he loved her, that her face would be with him in whatever circ.u.mstances the future should place him. But David could not read the heart of his old playmate, and while his own heart cried out for its mate his words were commonplace.

"Mother has promised that I'm to have so many letters that I can't read them all. As you're to be private secretary, you'll have to promise to carry out her promise."

"David," she met him with equal jest, "you have as many promises in that sentence as a candidate for political office."

"But I want them better kept than that," he said, laughing. "Will you promise, Phbe?"

"Promise what?" she asked, the levity fading suddenly.

"To write often for mother."

"Yes--I promise to write often for Mother Bab," she said, and the man could not know the effort the simple words cost her. "Oh, Davie," she thought, "it's not for Mother Bab alone I want to write to you! I want to write you _my_ letters, letters of a girl to the man she loves. How blind you are!"

The moment was becoming tense. It was Mother Bab who turned the tide into a normal channel. "Now, don't you worry, Davie. I can make Phbe mind me."

The train whistled. Phbe drew a long breath and prayed that the train would make a short stop and speed along for she could not endure much more. She looked at Mother Bab. The hysteria was turned from her. She knew she would have to be brave for the sake of the dear mother.

"I'll take care of Mother Bab, David," she promised as the train drew in, "and I'll write often."

"Phbe, you're an angel!" He grasped both hands in his for a long moment. Then he turned to his mother, folded her in his arms and kissed her.

"There he is," Phbe cried as the train moved. She was eyes for Mother Bab. "Turn to the right a bit and wave; that's it! He's waving back---- Oh, Mother Bab, he's waving that box of sand-tarts Aunt Maria gave him!

They'll be in pieces!"

"Sand-tarts," said the other, still waving to the boy she could not see.

"Well, he'll eat them if they are broken. Davie is crazy for cookies."

"I'm going to need you more than ever now, Phbe," Mother Bab said as they started home. "Aunt Mary and Phares are so busy and I feel it's so lovely of them to have me there when I can do so little to help, that I don't want to make them more trouble than I must. So if you'll take care of the writing to David for me I'll be glad." Ah, blind Mother Bab, you had splendid vision just then!

"I'll write for you. I'll love to do it. Mother Bab----" She hesitated.

Should she broach the subject of the operation now? Perhaps it would be kind to divert the thoughts of the mother from the recent parting.

"Mother Bab, I've thought about what you said, and I think you should have that operation. The doctor said there was a chance."

"Ach, a very slim one. One chance in--I don't know how many!"

"But a chance!"

"Yes"--the woman thought a moment--"but it would cost lots of money, I guess. I didn't ask the doctor, but I know operations are dear. I have fifty dollars saved, but that wouldn't go far."

"But don't you know," the girl said guilelessly, "that all big hospitals have free rooms and do lots of work for nothing? Many rich people endow rooms in hospitals. If you could get into one like that and pay just a little, would you go?"

A light seemed to settle upon the face of the blind woman. "Why," she answered slowly, "why, Phbe, I never thought of that! I didn't remember--why, I guess I would--yes, of course! I'd go and make a fight for that one chance!"

"I knew you'd be brave! You'll have that operation, Mother Bab! I'll write to Dr. Munster right away. But don't you let Phares write and tell David. We'll surprise him!"

"Ach, but won't he be glad if I can see when he comes home!"

"Won't he though! I'll make all the arrangements; don't you worry about it at all."

"My, you're good to me, Phbe!"

"Good--after all you've done for me!"

"_Good_," she thought after Mother Bab had been left at the home of Phares and Phbe turned homeward. "She calls me good the first time I deceive her. I've begun that tangled web and I know I'll have to tell a whole pack of lies before I'm through with it."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

THE ONE CHANCE

PHBE lost no time in carrying out her plans. When she mentioned the operation to Phares Eby he looked dubious.

"I'm afraid it's no use," he said gravely. "Those operations very often fail."

"But there's a chance, Phares! If it were your eyes wouldn't you s.n.a.t.c.h at any meagre chance?"

"Why, I guess I would," he admitted, wondering at her insight into human nature and admiring her devotion to the blind woman.

Aunt Maria also was sceptical. "Ach, Phbe, it vonders me now that Barb'll spend all that money for carfare and to stay in the city and then mebbe it's all for nothin'. There was old Bevy Way and a lot of old people I knowed went blind and they died blind. When abody gets so old once it seems the doctors can't do much. I guess it just is to be."

"Oh, Aunt Maria," Phbe said hotly, "I don't believe in that is-to-be business! Not until you've done all you can to make things better."

"Well, mebbe, for all, it's worth tryin'. I guess if it was my eyes I'd do most anything to get 'em fixed again."

Mother Bab said little about the hopes Phbe had raised, but the girl knew how the woman built upon having sight for a glad surprise for David.

"I'm afraid the fifty dollars won't reach," she said the day before they were to take the trip to Philadelphia.

"Don't worry about that. Those big doctors usually have hearts to match.