Wanted-A Match Maker Part 9

She went upstairs slowly, as if thinking, and once in her room, seated herself at her desk and commenced a note. Before she had written a page she tore the paper in two and began anew. Twice she repeated this proceeding; then rose in evident irritation, and, walking to her fire, stood looking down into the flame. "I'll think out what I had better do when I'm not so tired," she finally remarked, as she rang for her maid.

But once in bed, her thoughts, or the previous strain, kept her long hours awake; and when at last she dropped into unconsciousness her slumber was made miserable by dreams mixing in utter confusion operating-room and dinner, guests and microbes--dreams in which she was alternately striving to explain something to Dr. Armstrong, who could not be brought to understand, or to conceal something he was determined to discover. Finally she found herself stretched on the dinner-table, the doctor, knife in hand, standing over her, with the avowed intention of opening her heart to learn some secret, and it was her helpless protests and struggles which brought consciousness to her--to discover that she had slept far into the morning.

With the one thought of a visit to the hospital during the permitted hours, she made a hasty toilet, followed by an equally speedy breakfast, and was actually on her way downstairs when she recalled her promise of a gift. A glance at her watch told her that there was not time to go to the shops, and hurrying back to her room, she glanced around for something among the knick-knacks scattered about. Finding nothing that she could conceive of as bringing pleasure to the waif, she took from a drawer of her desk a photograph of herself, and descended to the carriage.

She had reason to be thankful for her recollection, as, once her greetings, and questions to the nurse about the patient's condition were made, Swot demanded,

"Wheer's dat present dat youse promised me?"

"I did not have time this morning to get something especially for you,"

she explained, handing him the portrait, "so for want of anything better, I've brought you my picture."

The urchin took the gift and looked at both sides. "Wotinell's dat good for?" he demanded contemptuously.

"I thought--hoped it might please you, as showing you that I had forgiven--that I liked you."

"Ah, git on de floor an' look at youseself," disgustedly remarked Swot.

"Dat talk don't cut no ice wid me. W'y didn't youse ask wot Ise wants?"

"And what would you like?"

"Will youse guv me a pistol?"

"Why, what would you do with it?"

"I'd trow a scare into de big newsies w'en dey starts to chase me off de good beats."

"Really, Swot, I don't think I ought to give you anything so dangerous.

You are very young to--"

"Ah! Youse a goil, an' deyse born frightened. Bet youse life, if youse ask de doc, he won't tink it nuttin' to be scared of."

"He isn't here this morning," remarked Constance, for some reason looking fixedly at the glove she was removing as she spoke.

The urchin raised his head and peered about. "Dat's funny!" he exclaimed.

"It's de first time he oin't bin here w'en youse wuz at de bat."

"Has he seen you this morning?"

"Why, cert!"

The girl opened the dime novel and found the page at which the interruption had occurred, hesitated an instant, and remarked, "The next time he comes you might say that I would like to see him for a moment--to ask if I had better give you a pistol." This said, she hastily began on the book. Thrillingly as the pursuits and pursuit of the criminal cla.s.ses were pictured, however, there came several breaks in the reading; and had any keenly observant person been watching Miss Durant, he would have noticed that these pauses invariably happened whenever some one entered the ward.

It was made evident to her that she and Swot gave value to entirely different parts of her message to the doctor; for, no sooner did she reach the waif's bedside the next morning than the invalid announced,--

"Say, Ise done my best to jolly de doc, but he stuck to it dat youse oughtn't to guv me no pistol."

"Didn't you tell him what I asked you to say?" demanded Constance, anxiously.

"Soytenly. Ise says to 'im dat youse wanted to know wot he tought, an' he went back on me. Ise didn't tink he'd trun me down like dat!"

"I might better have written him," murmured Miss Durant, thoughtfully. She sat for some time silently pondering, till the waif asked,--

"Say, youse goin' to guv me dat present just de same, oin't youse?"

"Yes, I'll give you a present," acceded the girl, opening the book. "I think, Swot," she continued, "that we'll have to trouble Dr. Armstrong for another Old Sleuth, as we shall probably finish this to-day. And tell him this time it is my turn to pay for it," From her purse she produced a dime, started to give it to the boy, hastily drew back her hand, and replacing the coin, subst.i.tuted for it a dollar bill. Then she began reading rapidly--so rapidly that the end of the story was attained some twenty minutes before the visitors' time had expired.

"Say," was her greeting on the following day, as Swot held up another lurid-looking tale and the dollar bill, "Ise told de doc youse wuzn't willin' dat he, bein' poor, should bleed de cash dis time, an' dat youse guv me dis to--"

"You didn't put it that way, Swot?" demanded Miss Durant.

"Wot way?"

"That I said he was poor."

"Soytenly."

"Oh, Swot, how could you?"

"Wot's de matter?"

"I never said that! Was he--was he--What did he say?"

"Nuttin' much, 'cept dat I wuz to guv youse back de dough, for de books wuz on 'im."

"I'm afraid you have pained him, Swot, and you certainly have pained me.

Did he seem hurt or offended?"

"Nop."

"I wish you would tell him I shall be greatly obliged if he will come to the ward to-morrow, for I wish to see him. Now don't alter this message, please, Swot."

That her Mercury did her bidding more effectively was proved by her finding the doctor at the bedside when she arrived the next day.

"Swot told me that you wished to see me, Miss Durant," he said.

"Yes, and I'm very much obliged to you for waiting. I--How soon will it be possible for him to be up?"

"He is doing so famously that we'll have him out of bed by Monday, I hope."

"I promised him a present, and I want to have a Christmas tree for him, if he can come to it."

"Wot's dat?" came the quick question from the bed.

"If you don't know, I'm going to let it be a surprise to you, Swot. Do you think he will be well enough to come to my house? Of course I'll send my carriage."

"If he continues to improve, he certainly will be."

"Say, is dat de ting dey has for de mugs wot goes to Sunday-school, an'