Stepping Heavenward Part 11

But she says he is good, and very skillful. I wish I did not take such violent likes and dislikes to people. I want my religion to change me in every respect.

MAY 2.-Oh, I know now! This is the very who was so rude at Sunday-school, and afterwards made such a nice address to the children. Well he may know how to speak in public, but I am sure he doesn't in private. I never knew such a shut-up man.

MAY 4.-I have my hands as full as they can hold. The children have got so fond of me, and one or the other is in my lap nearly all the time. I sing to them, tell them stories, build block-houses, and relieve Aunty all I can. Dull and poky as the doctor is, I am not afraid of him, for he never notices anything I say or do, so while he is holding solemn consultations with Aunty in one corner, I can sing and .talk all sorts of nonsense to my little pets in mine. What fearful black eyes he has, and what ma.s.ses of black hair!

This busy life quite suits me, now I have got used to it. And it sweetens every bit of work to think that I am doing it in humble, far-off, yet real imitation of Jesus. I am indeed really and truly happy.

MAY 14-It is now two weeks since little Raymond was taken sick, and I have lived in the nursery all the time, though Aunty has tried to make me go out. Little Emma was taken down to-day, though she has been kept on the third floor all the time I feel dreadfully myself.

But this hard, cold doctor of Aunty's is so taken up with the children that he never so much as looks at me. I have been in a perfect shiver all day, but these merciless little folks call for stories as eagerly as ever. Well, let me be a comfort to them if I can! I hate selfishness more and more, and am shocked to see how selfish I have been.

MAY 15.-I was in a burning fever all night, and my head ached, and my throat was and is very sore. If knew I was going to die I would burn up this journal first. I would not have any one see it for the world.

MAY 24.-Dr. Elliott asked me on Sunday morning a week ago if I still felt well. For answer I behaved like a goose, and burst out crying.

Aunty; looked more anxious than I have seen her look yet, and reproached herself for having allowed me to be with the children. She took me by one elbow, and the doctor by the other, and they marched me off to my own room, where I was put through the usual routine on such occasions, and then ordered to bed. I fell asleep immediately and slept all day. The doctor came to see me in the evening, and made a short, stiff little visit, gave me a powder, and said thought I should soon be better.

I had two such visits from him the next day, when I began to feel quite like myself again, and in spite of his grave; staid deportment, could not help letting my good spirits run away with me in a style that evidently shocked him. He says persons nursing 'scarlet fever often have such little attacks as mine; indeed every one of the servants have had a sore throat and headache.

MAY 25.-This morning, just as the doctor shuffled in on his big feet, it came over me how ridiculously I must have looked the day I was taken sick, being walked off between Aunty and himself, crying like a baby. I burst out laughing, and no consideration I could make to myself would stop me. I pinched myself, asked myself how I should feel if one of the children should die, and used other kindred devices all to no purpose. At last the doctor, gravity personified as he is, joined in, though not knowing in the least what he was laughing at. Then he said,

"After this, I suppose, I shall have to p.r.o.nounce you convalescent."

"Oh, no!" I cried. "I am very-sick indeed."

"This looks like it, to be sure!" said Aunty.

"I suppose this will be your last visit, Dr. Elliott," I went on, "and I am glad of it. After the way I behaved the day I was taken sick, I have been ashamed to look you in the face. But I really felt dreadfully."

He made no answer whatever. I don't suppose he would speak a little flattering word by way of putting one in good humor with one's self for the whole world!

JUNE 1.-We are all as well as ever, but the doctor keeps some of the children still confined to the house for fear of bad consequences following the fever. He visits them twice a day for the same reason, or at least under that pretense, but I really believe he comes because he has got the habit of coming, and because he admires Aunty so much. She has a real affection for him, and is continually asking me if I don't like this and that quality in him which I can't see at all. We be gin to drive out again. The weather is, very warm, but I feel perfectly well.

JUNE 2.-After the children's dinner to-day I took care of them while their nurse got hers and Aunty went to lie down, as she is all tired out. We were all full of life and fun, and some of the little ones wanted me to play a play of their own invention, which was to lie down on the floor, cover my face with a handkerchief, and make believe I was dead. They were to gather about me, and I was suddenly to come to life and jump up and try to catch them as they all ran scampering and screaming about. We had played in this interesting way for some time, and my hair, which I keep in nice order nowadays, was pulled down and flying every way; when in marched the doctor. I started up and came to life quickly enough when I heard his step, looking red and angry, no doubt.

I should think you might have knocked, Dr. Elliott," I said, with much displeasure.

"I ask your pardon; I knocked several times," he returned. "I need hardly ask how my little patients are."

"No," I replied, still ruffled, arid making desperate efforts to get my hair into some sort of order. "They are as well as possible."

"I came a little earlier than usual to-day," he went on, "because I am called to visit my uncle, Dr. Cabot, who is in a very critical state of health."

"Dr. Cabot!" I repeated, bursting into tears.

"Compose yourself, I entreat," he said; "I hope that I may be able to relieve him. At all events--"

"At all events, if you let him die it will break my heart," I cried pa.s.sionately. "Don't wait another moment; go this instant."

"I cannot go this instant," he replied. "The boat does not leave until four o'clock. And if I may be allowed, as a physician, to say one word, that my brief acquaintance hardly justifies, I do wish to warn you that unless you acquire more self-control-"

"Oh, I know that I have a quick temper, and that I spoke very rudely to you just now," I interrupted, not a little startled by the seriousness of his manner.

"I did not refer to your temper," he said. "I meant your whole pa.s.sionate nature. Your vehement loves and hates, your ecstasies and your despondencies; your disposition to throw yourself headlong into whatever interests you."

"I would rather have too little self-control," I retorted, resentfully, "than to be as cold as a stone, and as hard as a rock, and as silent as the grave, like some people I know."

His countenance fell; he looked disappointed, even pained.

"I shall probably see your mother," he said, turning to go; "your aunt wishes me to call on her; have you any message?"

"No," I said.

Another pained, disappointed look made me begin to recollect myself.

I was sorry, oh! so sorry, for my anger and rudeness. I ran after him, into the hall, my eyes full of tears, holding out both hands, which he took in both his.

"Don't go until you have forgiven me for being so angry!" I cried.

"Indeed, Dr. Elliott, though you not be able to believe it, I am trying to do right all the time!"

"1 do believe it," he said earnestly.

"Then tell me that you forgive me!"

"If I once begin, I shall be tempted to tell something else," he said, looking me through and through with those great dusky eyes.

"And I will tell it," he went on, his grasp on my hands growing firmer-"'It is easy to forgive when one loves." I pulled my hands away, and burst out crying again.

"Oh, Dr. Elliott this is dreadful!" I said. "You do not, you cannot love me! You are so much older than I am! So grave and silent! You are not in earnest?"

"I am only too much so," he said, and went quietly out.

I went back to the nursery. The children rushed upon me, and insisted that I should "play die." I let them pull me about as they pleased. I only wished I could play it in earnest.

Chapter 8

VIII

JUNE 28.

MOTHER writes me that Dr. Cabot is out of danger, Dr. Elliott having thrown new light on his case, and performed some sort of an operation that relieved him at once. I am going home. Nothing would tempt me to encounter those black eyes again. Besides, the weather is growing warm, and Aunty is getting ready to go out of town with the children.

JUNE 29.-Aunty insisted on knowing why I was hurrying home so suddenly, and at last got it out of me inch by inch. On the whole it was a relief to have some one to speak to.

"Well!" she said, and leaned back in her chair in a fit of musing.

"Is that all you are going to say, Aunty?" I ventured to ask at last.

"No, I have one more remark to add," she said, "and it is this: I don't know which of you has behaved most ridiculously. It would relieve me to give you each a good shaking."

"I think Dr. Elliot has behaved ridiculously," I said, "and he has made me most unhappy."