Katherine's Sheaves Part 31

Softly, Miss Reynolds laid aside her festal attire, made a nest for herself on her roomy couch and, to the faintly flowing rhythm of "The Beautiful Blue Danube," soon lost herself in dreamland, never waking until the brilliant sun of a glorious June morning flooded her room and warned her that a new day had begun.

CHAPTER XVII.

DR. STANLEY HAS AN OBJECT LESSON.

She found Katherine already awake.

"What do you think of tramps who take possession of your room and drive you out of your comfortable bed?" playfully demanded the girl, and nodding brightly at her.

"I like it--that is, when I have the privilege of choosing the tramp," her teacher laughingly responded, as she sat up and glanced at the clock; "besides, this couch is every bit as comfortable as the bed. Did you rest well, Kathie?"

"Beautifully. The last I knew, until about ten minutes ago, you were reading the twenty-third psalm."

Miss Reynolds arose and began to dress. Once or twice she found her eyes straying to Katherine's bandaged hand, and longed to inquire regarding its condition. But she wisely resisted the temptation and maintained a discreet silence.

"You will not try to go down to breakfast, Kathie," she remarked, as she completed her toilet, and the bell began to ring just at that moment.

"No, I think I will keep out of sight to-day. I do not wish to answer questions. Besides, I haven't anything here suitable to put on." and she bestowed a rueful look upon her pretty evening dress, all crumpled and burned, that lay over the back of a chair.

"True; but I will go for one of your dresses when I come up from breakfast," said her friend; "meantime, if you care to get up, you can slip on this negligee of mine," and she threw a dainty wrapper over the foot of the bed as she spoke.

As soon as Miss Reynolds left the room, Katherine arose and dressed, then sat down to read. She was glad to be alone, for, though she was entirely free from pain, she felt she still had work to do for herself.

For nearly an hour she read and worked diligently, and then her teacher returned, bearing a tempting breakfast, which she soon dispatched with the appet.i.te of a healthy, hungry girl.

"I met Prof. Seabrook and his wife on my way up," Miss Reynolds observed, as she began putting away the things she had worn the previous evening, "and both inquired most kindly for you. The professor said you are excused from the cla.s.s lecture this morning, if you wish, and Mrs. Seabrook will come to see you later. They both expressed themselves as deeply grateful for what you did last night."

"I scarcely know what I did," Katherine returned, flushing. "Dr.

Stanley came so quickly to the rescue that it was all over before I could think clearly. It seems like a dream."

"Yes, he told me all about it last night, Kathie, and said but for your rare presence of mind there might have been a bad fire. He was pretty well cut up, however, when he found that you had hidden yourself away and he had lost a patient," Miss Reynolds replied with a laugh of amus.e.m.e.nt, which was merrily echoed by her guest.

"He doesn't seem to take much stock in Science, dear," she presently resumed. "He was simply amazed when I told him you were sleeping--I thought it best, as long as your work was done, to relieve his anxiety--and declared that was impossible, unless you had taken a powerful opiate."

"An opiate is something which mortal mind says produces repose; well, I had taken a large dose of that 'Peace, be still,' which, rightly administered, never fails to give the sufferer and the weary rest," said Katherine, with luminous eyes.

"It was beautiful, Kathie, and, figuratively speaking, I 'put off my shoes from off my feet,' feeling that the 'place whereon I stood was, indeed, holy ground,'" reverently observed her companion. "But, tell me, weren't you afraid when you saw the flames?"

"Yes, for an instant, then I forgot everything but the 'secret place' and 'the shadow.'"

"How much those words mean to me now! And you believe that every statement of that ninety-first psalm can be proved--made practical?' gravely inquired Miss Reynolds.

"Every one."

"Well, I think I am beginning to know it, too; though, as yet, it is like 'seeing through a gla.s.s darkly,'" and a sweet seriousness settled over the woman's face. "But," she went on, arousing herself after a moment, "if you will tell me what to bring you I will now go to your room for some clothes."

"Really, I am perfectly able to go for them myself," Katherine began.

"No, indeed; you are going to remain just where you are, at least for the morning," said her teacher, authoritatively. "At this hour you would be sure to meet many of the students and become the target for innumerable questions."

"Well, then, bring my linen suit and my 'Horace,' please. I have to complete an essay on that accomplished and agreeable gentleman 'as a poet and a wit,' and I can spend the morning working upon it."

Miss Reynolds slipped away on her errand, but she no sooner reached the main hall than she was surrounded by a bevy of excited maidens and besieged with a volley of inquiries regarding the accident of the previous night.

Dorothy's nurse, Alice, had described the scene in the lecture hall to one of the maids, when, of course, the news had spread like wildfire, and it, together with Katherine's "heroism," was the one topic of the day. Sadie had also heard it and was on her way to see her chum when she, too, met the teacher in the hall.

She went back to her room with her, found the things Katherine had designated, and then, as it was nearly time for the cla.s.s lecture, sent word that she would come to see her after study hours were over.

When Miss Reynolds reached her own door again, she found a maid standing there with a long box in her hands.

"Mrs. Seabrook told me to bring this up to you, marm," the girl observed; but on entering her room and relieving herself of her armful of clothing, she saw that the package was addressed to "Miss Katherine Minturn."

"What have we here, I wonder?" she remarked, as she pa.s.sed it to her companion, together with a pair of scissors.

Katherine cut the string and lifted the cover, when a cry of delight broke from her.

"Dear Miss Reynolds! look!" she said, holding the box towards her for inspection.

It was filled with fragrant, long-stemmed Jack roses.

"How lovely! Who can the donor be?" she said. "Ah! there is a card, tucked almost out of sight, under the foliage."

Katherine drew it forth, and a quick flush suffused her face as she read the name, "Phillip Harris Stanley." She pa.s.sed it to her friend, then bent over her box of crimson beauties, as if to inhale their perfume, but really to hide the deepening color in her cheeks.

Presently a bell rang and Miss Reynolds was obliged to go to a cla.s.s, thus leaving Katherine alone with her books and her flowers, and in a very happy frame of mind.

It was nearly noon before Mrs. Seabrook could steal away from her duties to go to see her; and when Katherine, in response to her knock, admitted her, she took the girl into her arms and kissed her with quivering lips, her eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears.

"My dear child, you know it is simply impossible for me to tell you all there is in my heart," she began, but her voice broke and she had to stop to maintain her self-control.

"Do not try, dear Mrs. Seabrook," said Katherine, as she returned her caress. "I know it all, and you cannot be more thankful than I am that Dorothy escaped without even having her pleasure spoiled."

"She talks of nothing but her 'beautiful time' and your 'bravery,'" the mother resumed. "She says that even though she cannot remember much of what happened, after you wrapped the portiere about the chair, she did hear you tell her 'not to be afraid, for she was G.o.d's child and could not be harmed.' She was not harmed in any way; she simply fainted from the shock, and seems even brighter to-day than she was yesterday. But you suffered for her," and Mrs. Seabrook's tremulous lips failed her again, as she softly touched the girl's bandaged hand.

"It is almost nothing now," said Katherine, brightly. "I am fast forgetting it myself, and want everybody else to. Does Dorrie know?"

"No; my brother thought it best not to tell her."

"I am glad; pray keep it from her if possible."

"But is it not very sore? Are you not suffering?"

"Not in the least, I a.s.sure you. The pain lasted only a little while; I slept lovely and feel as good as new this morning."

"But your beautiful dress was ruined, though that, of course, shall be replaced; and you lost your good time last night," and the woman heaved a regretful sigh.