Cora and The Doctor Part 6

She lies this morning in a deep sleep, and, I hope, will awake refreshed. I have been sitting by her while mother went over to the cottage on some business. She has now returned, and I have persuaded her to lie down on the couch in sister's room. She was so anxious, she scarcely slept at all.

Dear Pauline, what a comfort she is to me! She is the most affectionate little creature I ever saw, and has already woven herself closely around our hearts. Even Frank laughs merrily at her cunning ways.

Phebe wears a turban, generally made of a bandanna handkerchief, or something equally bright. Miss thought, she too must wear one. So she watched her opportunity when Ann laid down her duster, which happened to be an old silk kerchief of similar colors to madam's turban, and tried to weave it round her head. Ann observed her unsuccessful efforts with silent amus.e.m.e.nt, and perceiving that when one side was arranged, the other came tumbling down, offered to a.s.sist her.

Pauline shouted with delight: "Mamma, see! mamma, see!!" The kind hearted girl brought the child to me. I laughed well at her grotesque appearance. Her head was top-heavy with the turban, while the dark short curls peeping out here and there made her look like a boy. She evidently thought it a good joke, and was unwilling to have it taken off. You see, we make a great pet of her; but since I began to manage her aright, she obeys instantly. Sometimes her lip quivers a little, and she looks as if she were about to burst into a hearty cry; and then, with a sigh, restrains herself.

Almost every morning, from eleven till two, I have received calls; and shall have business enough for the fall and winter if they continue.

Many of them are formal and ceremonious; others, I suppose, are prompted merely by curiosity to see the stranger. I find the report of my three years' residence in Paris creates quite a sensation. People look at me as if I ought to be something more than Americans who have never been out of their native land, and appear somewhat disappointed to see in me nothing more than a simple, frank girl, just like their daughters or sisters at home.

A few have called whom I like exceedingly; who entered into conversation upon subjects profitable and interesting. You, my dear mother, have spoiled me for enjoying the society of persons who cannot talk, except of individual character and conduct; as for instance: "I suppose, your husband has told you of the trouble in Squire Lee's family. He attends there, I believe."

"No," I replied.

"Ah, indeed! Well, Lucy has had to break her engagement with young Mansfield just to please her brother, who is no better than he should be." I remained silent simply because I had nothing to say, and was glad when the entrance of other company put a stop to such gossip.

Of the more select cla.s.s, are Mr. Munroe, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall, Miss Proctor,--Frank's favorite,--and I must not forget Friend Estes, who frankly said, "I came, my dear, to see thee out of the regard I have for thy husband."

I rather think, she was well enough acquainted with human nature to know, that she was making her way directly to my heart.

"How is Susan, thy mother?" she asked. I stopped and hesitated a moment, before I remembered that the Friends always use the first name. She was overflowing with love and good-will to everybody; and before she went away we grew so friendly, that she kissed me twice and said, "I must bring Jotham to see thee, my dear"--"Cora," I said, seeing she hesitated for the name,--"and thou wilt come with thy husband for a visit to our house." She warmed my heart finely by her praise of Frank.

After all, there are a great many pleasant people in the world. I wish, you could see how kindly her deep blue eyes looked out from her drab poke upon your Cora. Your heart would come across the water to meet hers.

The more I see and hear of Miss Proctor, the better I love and esteem her. She is truly a "Dorcas," in whom the sick and afflicted always find a friend and helper. She has been an efficient aid and cooperator with Frank in his gratuitous practice.

Speaking of this cla.s.s, I must relate to you an incident, Emily told me.

A short time since, when Frank had fairly established himself in his profession, and had collected a good practice, a young physician came to the place, rather to the annoyance of some of his brethren of the profession, who took no pains to call upon him. The Doctor, however, embraced the first opportunity to visit him at his office, to which there was little more than a showy sign, announcing to the public that "Dr. Clapp, Physician and Surgeon, was ready to extract teeth and cut off legs at the shortest notice, and for the lowest price imaginable."

Frank entered into conversation with this young son of aesculapius, and found, he was well learned in his profession, and had high recommendations from his professors as to his qualifications for his office. My good husband encouraged him to persevere, and offered to recommend him wherever it was in his power.

"I shall never be displeased," he added, "if I hear, you are taking my practice, except in the case of my poor patients. Most of these have grown up with me, and I flatter myself, I am, with them, an exception to the general rule, 'a prophet is not without honor, save in his own country.'"

The sequel to this visit is quite romantic. Dr. Clapp, who is about twenty-four years of age, walked to the window, where he vigorously plied his handkerchief, as if afflicted with a sudden cold. After this operation he was relieved, and came back offering his hand to Frank. He said, or tried to say, for his voice was rather husky, "Your kindness, Dr. Lenox, inspires me with new life and courage. I am yet waiting for my first patient." Then, encouraged by Frank's kind interest, he unburdened his heart, and asked advice with regard to a little private affair of his own.

It appears that, like a great many foolish young men, (I don't say it was foolish in _his_ case, not knowing the circ.u.mstances,) he had fallen in love, while in college, with "the most amiable girl in the world."

That was five years ago, so that their courtship had been quite protracted. To the ardent lovers, at least, it had seemed sufficiently so.

Harriet Phillips, who, at the time of their engagement, was but fourteen, had now arrived at the mature age of nineteen years,--"Quite old enough," he added, with an inquiring look at the Doctor, "to take charge of a family."

The decided tone in which Frank replied, "_Certainly_," gave the suitor new courage. To marry, or not to marry, that was now the question; and the judge who was to give the important decision, acknowledged that he found himself in rather a novel predicament. However, he shielded himself as many judges do, behind general principles. He acknowledged the great propriety of a physician being a man of family, and as soon as he could support a wife in comfort, he certainly advised him to marry.

"This," said Dr. Clapp, "is exactly the way I view the subject."

The young man soon after returned the call in the Doctor's absence. With a frankness which seems rather peculiar to him, he told Emily all the first part of the interview, and more than hinted at the latter; so that she, who has a considerable share of curiosity, coaxed Frank to tell her the rest, saying, "I'm sure Dr. Clapp wants me to know about it."

Now she says, "I shall advise him to bring his Harriet without delay. I fancy, he thought her old enough when he saw you at mother's levee.

Besides Frank is so much older than he is."

Emily insists that I do not look more than sixteen, and that I keep blushing like a girl of twelve. I wish I could break myself of this habit; but the more I try, the more the blood will rush to my face. It is very disagreeable, and sometimes places me in awkward situations.

But to return to my story, Dr. Clapp intends to profit by the excellent example set him by an elder brother of the cloth, and will soon be joined in the bands of Hymen to his beloved Harriet,--when he will bring her to the goodly town of Crawford, here to make up to her, by every means in his power, for the trials and sacrifices, she has, for a series of years, been called upon to make as the eldest sister in a large, and not very prosperous family.

Poor Emily, I wonder when she will laugh again, as she did when she related that to me. I must go and see if she is awake. I have not heard the least sound from her room all the time I have been writing. Ann carried Pauline about the garden until she went to sleep, that the house might be quiet.

CHAPTER VI.

"Nought shall prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessings." WORDSWORTH.

_Tuesday, June 16th._

Last night when I sat writing busily, a hand was put upon my paper.

Starting up, I saw Frank with one of his very grave looks. I hastily shut my desk. "How is Emily?" I asked quickly.

"Emily is asleep; and I thought you were, long ago. I really must restrict you to certain hours of writing. Do you know how late it is?"

He held his watch toward me, and to my amazement it was near midnight.

"I took no note of time," I replied, "I was so absorbed in writing. It is almost like talking with my own dear mother."

"Well," said Frank, touched a little, I suppose, by my sad tone, "you shall write as much as you please, only don't take the time from your sleep."

_Tuesday Noon._

Dear, _dear_ father, mother and sisters, how happy you have made me by writing so soon. Frank came home in the middle of the forenoon, and beckoning me out of Emily's room into my own, stood with his hands behind him, and asked, "How many kisses will you give me for something I have brought you?"

He looked so pleased and mysterious, I couldn't think for an instant what it could be. When I did, I gave a bound behind him, and caught the letters before he was aware. "But," he said, "I won't be cheated in that way. I'll sue you." I told him, I would give him a thousand kisses after I had read my letters. My hands trembled so much with joy and excitement, that I had difficulty in tearing off the covering; when such a dear packet presented itself, I almost danced with delight.

Frank looked as pleased as I did. I made him sit down while I read dear father's letter, the last in order; when I had finished, Frank said, "I must tear myself away, and hear the rest after dinner. My patients will wonder what has become of me."--"But," he added with a very demure look, "can't you pay me part of my bill, and let me endorse it on the account?"

I sprang up, and with my arms around his neck, gave him such a shower of kisses, as certainly he never had from me before; and I sat down quite out of breath.

"There, now, I've found out what you can do!" he said, laughing merrily, "you have kept me on very short allowance heretofore; I never supposed you capable of such exertions." He then slipped quietly into Emily's room, and soon I heard him drive away.

Isn't he a darling, mother? though I fear, it won't do to tell him so, for he is getting really to think too much of himself. He used to be so grateful for the least favor shown to him; and thought it such a privilege to be allowed to kiss my hand. Now he grows more exacting in his demands; and n.o.body knows what he'll expect after this.

He heard of the arrival in New York of the packet ship "Eleanor," and has been watching the mail for my letters.--Caesar happened to-day to go to the office before him; but Frank drove rapidly home to have the pleasure himself of giving them to me. All this Caesar was delighted to tell me, while his eyes shone like two stars through a cloud.

The whole family sympathize with me in my joy at hearing from my dear, sweet home. Even Emily brightened up a little, as I read mother Lenox part of Bell's letter. She lies quietly in bed, and says she is free from pain; but she cannot make the least exertion without fainting.

Frank says, she has a slow fever. The cottage is shut up; and Ruth has come over to aid Phebe while mother and sister are here. I feel very glad that Emily's sickness occurred here. Mother says, it was all wisely ordered. I know, she feels relieved at night by this arrangement.

_Tuesday evening._

Frank says, I may write half an hour, to pay for my liberality to him this morning; and he will sit up and read his papers. This has been an eventful day to me;--first my letters from home;--then I had a note from Mr. Benson, informing me, that, situated as he was, (with regard to Emily I suppose), he could not give proper attention to the duties of his profession, and that as tutor and companion, he had accepted an offer made him some months ago, but then declined, of going to Europe with a young man.