The Story of a Doctor's Telephone Part 28

"Please 'phone your complaints to the doctor," said Mary, calmly replacing the receiver and shutting off the flood.

"John's existence will be made miserable by this new honor thrust upon him," she thought.

When he came home that evening she asked if the second complainant had found him.

"Yes, she found me all right."

"They're going to make day hideous and night lamented, aren't they?"

"O, no. I'll just have a little fun and then send someone to look after their complaints."

Just before bed-time the doctor was called to the 'phone.

"Doctor, this is the nurse at the hotel. What had I better do with this Polish girl's hand?"

"Doesn't it look all right?"

"Yes, it's doing fine."

"Just let it alone, then."

"She won't be satisfied. She thinks we ought to be doing something to it. And I've got to do something or she'll go off upstairs and wash it in dirty water."

"Tell her not to do anything of the kind."

"She can't understand a word I say and I don't know what to do with her.

She's had the bandage off once already."

"The devil she has! Well, then you'll have to unwrap it, I guess, and pretend to do something. But it would be better to let it alone."

"I know that."

"How is the other patient tonight?"

"Doing fine, Doctor."

"Good! Good-bye."

There was a s.p.a.cious, airy, upper chamber opening out on a balcony at the doctor's house which the doctor and Mary claimed for theirs. Not now; O no! But in the beautiful golden sometime when the telephone ceased from troubling and the weary ones might rest. This meant when the doctor should retire from night practice. Until that happy time they occupied a smaller room on the first floor as it was near the telephone.

Mary had steadfastly refused to have the privacy of her upper rooms invaded by the tyrant.

One warm summer night when bed-time came she made the announcement that she was going upstairs to sleep in the big room.

"But what if I should be called out in the night?" asked her husband, with protest in his voice.

"Then I'd be safer up there than down here," said Mary, calmly.

"But I mean you couldn't hear the 'phone."

"That is a consummation devoutly to be wished."

"Now don't go off up there," expostulated John. "You always hear it and I sort of depend on you to get me awake."

"Exactly. But it's a good thing for a man to depend on himself once in awhile. I was awake so often last night that I'm too tired and sleepy to argue. But I'm going. Good night."

"Thunder!"

"It doesn't ring _every_ night," said Mary, comfortingly from the landing. "Let us retire in the fond belief that curfew will not ring tonight."

When she retired she fell at once into deep sleep. For two hours she slept sweetly on. Then she was instantly aroused. The figure of a man stood by her side. In the moonlight she saw him plainly, clad in black.

Her heart was coming up into her throat when a voice said,

"Mary, I have to go two miles into the country."

"Why didn't you call me, John, instead of standing there and scaring me to death?"

"I did call you but I couldn't get you awake."

"Then you ought to have let me be. If a woman hasn't a right to a night's sleep once in awhile what _is_ she ent.i.tled to?"

This petulance was unusual with his wife. "Well, come on down now, Mary," he said, kindly.

"I'm not going down there this night."

"But you can't hear the 'phone up here and I'm expecting a message any minute that must be answered."

"I'll--hear--that--'phone," said Mary. "I'll sleep with one ear and one eye open."

"Have it your own way," said the doctor as he started down the stairs.

"I intend to. But when I tell you I'll watch the 'phone, John, you know I'll do it."

He was gone and she lay wide awake. It seemed very hard to be ruthlessly pulled from a sleep so deep and delicious and so much needed.

By and by her eye-lids began to feel heavy and her thoughts went wandering into queer places. "This won't do," she said aloud, sitting up in bed. Then she rose and went out on to the balcony. Seating herself in an arm chair, she looked about her on the silvery loveliness. The cricket's chirr and the occasional affirmations of the katy-did were the only sounds she heard. "I didn't say you didn't. Don't be so spiteful about it."

The moon, shining through the branches of the big oak tree made faintly-flickering shadows at her feet. The white hammock, stirring occasionally as a breeze touched it, invited her. She went over to it and lay for many minutes looking up, noting how fast the moon glided from one branch of the tree to another. Now it neared the trunk. Now a slice was cut off its western rim. Now it was only a half moon--"a bweak-moon on the sky," as her little boy had called it. Now there was a total eclipse. When it began peeping out on the other side of the trunk our watcher's dreamful eyes took no note of it. A dog barked. She sprang up and seated herself in the chair again. She dare not trust herself to the hammock. It was too seductive and too delightful. So she sat erect and waited for the ring which might not come but which must be watched for just the same. Her promise had gone forth. Far up the street she heard horses' hoofs--it must be John returning. The buggy-top shining in the moonlight came into view. No, it was a white horse. Her vigil was not yet ended. A quarter of an hour later she discerned a figure far down the walk. She followed it with her eyes. It moved swiftly on. Would it turn at the corner and come up toward their house? Yes, it was turning. Then it turned into the yard. It was John. She went forward and leaning over the railing called down to him, "A good chance to play Romeo now, John." John only grunted--after the manner of husbands.

"n.o.body rang. I'm going to bed again. Good night--I mean good morning."

The next night was hotter than ever and Mary made up her mind she would sleep up in the hammock. She had had a delicious taste of it which made her wish for more. To avoid useless discussion she would wait till John retired and was asleep, then she would quietly steal away. But when this was accomplished and she had settled herself comfortably to sleep she found herself wide awake. She closed her eyes and gently wooed slumber, but it came not. Ah, now she knew! The night before she had shaken off all responsibility for the 'phone. Therefore she could sleep. Tonight her husband lay unconscious of her absence and the burden of it was upon her shoulders again. Well, she must try to sleep anyway, this was too good a chance to lose. She fell asleep. After awhile dinner was ready.

Mollie had rung the little bell for the boys. Now she was ringing it again. Where can the boys have got to? Ting-a-ling-ling-ling.

Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Ting-a-ling-ling-ling. Mary sat up in the hammock and rubbed her eyes.