Cap'n Dan's Daughter Part 57

And Serena did improve, slowly at first, then with gratifying rapidity.

She began to sit up for a portion of each day and to sleep through the greater part of each night. At the end of the tenth day the doctor announced that the nurse's services were no longer necessary.

"She will be all right now," he said, referring to his patient. "But she must continue to have absolute rest and she must not be worried or permitted to worry. If you and she could go somewhere, Captain Dott, to some quiet place in the country, and stay there for six months, I think it would help her more than anything. Can you do it?"

"_I_ can do it, Doctor," replied Daniel eagerly. "I'd like to do it.

I'll go anywhere, if it will help her."

"Good! Then I will advise it and you and Miss Dott must back my advice.

Will you?"

"I will, and so'll Gertie, I'm sure. You speak to her, Doctor. We'll do the backin' up."

So the doctor made the suggestion. Serena received it quietly, but, when her husband came to do his share of the "backing up," she shook her head.

"I'd like to, Daniel," she said. "I'd like to, but I can't."

"You can't? Course you can! Now let's think where we'll go. Niagara Falls, hey? You always wanted to go to the Falls."

"No, Daniel."

"No? Well, then, how about Washin'ton? We'll see the President, and the monument, and the Smithsonian Museum, and Congress--we'll see ALL the curiosities and relics. We'll go to--"

"Don't, Daniel. It makes me tired out just to hear about them. I couldn't stand all that."

"Course you couldn't! What a foolhead I am! The doctor said you needed rest and quiet, and Washin'ton is about as quiet as the Ostable Cattle Show. Well, what do you say to the White Mountains?"

"In winter? No, Daniel, if I went anywhere I should like to go to--to--"

"Where, Serena? Just name it and I'll buy the tickets."

"Daniel, I'd rather go to Trumet than anywhere else."

Captain Dan could scarcely believe it.

"WHAT!" he cried. "Trumet? You want to go to Trumet, Serena? YOU?"

"Yes. I've been wanting to go for some time. I never told you; I wouldn't even admit it to myself; but I've thought about it a great deal. I was getting so tired, so sick of all the going about and the dressing up and the talking, talking all the time. I longed to be somewhere where there was nothing going on and where you and I could be together as we used to be. And, oh, Daniel--"

"Yes, Serena? Yes?"

"Oh, Daniel, since I've been really sick, since I've been getting better and could think at all, I've been thinking more and more about our old house at Trumet, and how nice and comfortable we were there, and what pleasant evenings you and I used to have together. It was home, Daniel, really and truly home, and this place never has been, has it?"

"You bet it hasn't! It's been--well, never mind, but it wasn't home.

Lordy, but I'm glad to hear you talk this way, Serena! _I_ haven't thought anything else since we first landed, but I never imagined you did."

"I didn't, at first. It has been only lately since I began to feel so tired and my head troubled me so. Daniel, I'm not sure that our coming here wasn't a mistake."

The captain was perfectly sure. He sprang to his feet.

"That's all right, Serena," he cried. "If it was a mistake it's one that can be straightened out in two shakes of slack jib sheet. You stay here and rest easy. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to make arrangements for our trip to Trumet. 'Twon't take me long."

"Daniel, stop! Sit down. I didn't say I was going. I said I should like to go."

"That's the same thing. Now, Serena, I know what's frettin' you. You're thinkin' what'll become of this house and all the fine things in it.

They'll be all right. We could rent this house in no time, I know it. I ain't sure but what we could sell it if we wanted to. That real estate fellow, the one Barney--B. Phelps, I mean--introduced me to down street one time, met me t'other day and told me if I ever thought of sellin'

this place to let him know. Said he had a customer, or thought he had, that knew the house well and always liked it. He believed that feller would buy, if the price was right. Course I didn't pay much attention then; I judged you wouldn't think of sellin', but--"

"Stop! stop, Daniel! You are so excited it makes me nervous again to hear you. I wasn't thinking of the house at all. The way I feel now I had as soon sell it as not. But that isn't it. I can't leave Scarford. I can't!"

Daniel's enthusiasm faded. There was determination in his wife's tone.

He sat down again.

"Oh!" he observed wistfully, "you can't? You're sure you can't, Serena?

You know what the doctor said. Why can't you go?"

"Because I can't. It is impossible. I couldn't leave the Chapter. Don't you SEE, Daniel? I am a candidate for vice-president. My friends--the truest, most loyal friends a woman ever had--are depending upon me. I couldn't desert them. I told you that before. Would they desert me?"

"I suppose likely they wouldn't," reluctantly.

"You know they wouldn't. No personal considerations, no selfish reasons, NOTHING could make them do it. But I've said this all before, Daniel.

You must see why I have to stay. I'd like to go, I'd love to, but I can't. Let's talk of something else."

Captain Dan sighed. "I presume likely you're right, Serena," he admitted. "It would seem like a mean trick, the way you put it. But after the election? You said, when we was talkin' before, that after you was elected maybe you would go with Gertie and me somewhere. And we'll go to Trumet, that's where we'll go."

"All right, Daniel, dear, we'll see. And don't worry about me. I am almost well again and I am going to be completely well. Now won't you ask Gertie to come in and talk with me? I am beginning to think about the election. Gertrude must go. We need her vote and her influence.

Has she been helping Annette? I hope she has. Send her to me, Daniel, please."

So the captain, his hopes somewhat dashed, but finding comfort in his wife's new longing to visit the one spot on earth which spelled home to him, left the room to carry Serena's message to their daughter.

He was busy at the desk in the library when, several hours later, Gertrude entered. She was wearing her hat and coat and, coming into the library, stood beside him. He looked up. His expression surprised and alarmed her.

"Why, what's the matter, Daddy?" she asked anxiously. "You look as if something dreadful had happened. What is it?"

Her father put down his pen. A sheet of paper, covered with figures, was on the desk before him; so, also, was the family checkbook which had been, until the illness of Mrs. Dott, in that lady's sole charge.

"Matter?" he repeated. "Matter? Humph! Do I look as if somethin' was the matter? Where have you been?"

"I have been out. Mother was so anxious about the election that I promised her I would see Mrs. Black and some of the others this very day. I have been calling on them."

"Have, hey? Well, what's the prospect? The cause of right and Black, and justice and Dott is goin' to prevail, I presume likely, isn't it?"

"I don't know. I couldn't find out anything. Mrs. Black was not in, at least that is what the maid said; but I am almost sure she was in. I think I saw her peeping between the curtains as I went down the steps."

"That so? Perhaps she was dosin' you with the same medicine I handed her when she called that first day after Serena was taken down."