The Wide Awake Girls in Winsted Part 26

"Entirely. Sit down in this comfortable chair. I was startled. To have you fall ill after a week with us would be distressing."

"It has been such a dear week!" sighed Alice. "And I've rested all the time and have loved being with the girls. No, I'm quite well. But I had a letter from Mrs. Langdon, at Dexter, you know, just before I left home, and she told me I might tell you, if I cared to, what she has never let me tell any one outside the family,--that is, that I am one of the girls she is helping through college. I'm glad she said I might, for I've often wished Catherine knew, and it will be next best if you do."

"It is a rather trying condition of Mrs. Langdon's," said Dr. Helen sympathetically, "and sometimes creates difficult situations for the girls concerned, but I long ago gave up hope that she would ever change her ways. I quite understand how you feel, because, during my last two years at Dexter, I was one of her girls, too."

"You?" Alice's tone expressed the deepest surprise, and Dr. Helen continued.

"My father could not afford to send me, and I earned the money for my first two years, and was struggling along, trying to spend several hours a day earning money and at the same time to keep up with my work, when Mrs. Langdon, who was staying at home that winter, heard about me from friends. She helped me finish my college course, and gave me substantial aid in taking my professional course. I repaid the money afterward, but I couldn't repay the kindness."

"She is wonderfully kind," said Alice, "though her queer ways make you forget it sometimes. I had had letters from her before I left home the first year, of course, about the business part, and I went on, feeling that I wasn't going entirely among strangers, but she paid no attention to me at all. It was only by chance that I met her in the spring through Hannah."

"Poor child! You must have been much disappointed and very lonely at first. But she is a friend worth having, in spite of her peculiarities.

I am glad she let you share your secret with me. Did she say anything about her own health when she wrote? I almost never hear from her."

"Not a word. But she asked me to call on her old friend, Madam Kittredge, while I was here."

"She is our pastor's mother, a beautiful woman, and nearly blind. You must certainly call. Catherine always makes the rounds of the old ladies among our patients once a summer, and she loves to go to Madam Kittredge's. She must take you. I wonder--What is that? Come!"

A rustling of skirts and the sound of whispers was heard in the waiting-room. In answer to the doctor's invitation, the door was slowly opened, and Hannah put her head in at the crack, Frieda's appearing just below it, and Catherine's just above.

"Well, here you are!" cried Hannah. "We've been searching the house from attic to cellar for Alice, and finally had an inspiration and came here."

"Anything so exclusive as this," remarked Catherine, as she entered, "makes the rest of us jealous."

"Fearfully chealous," said Frieda earnestly, putting her arm around Alice's neck, and perching on the arm of her chair.

Hannah and Catherine sat down on the window-seat, pus.h.i.+ng the curtains out of the way as they did so.

"Mother really wanted to have her office curtains made of antiseptic gauze," said Catherine. "Why don't you two say anything?"

"You interrupted me just as I was having an inspiration," said her mother.

"O, what a pity," sighed Hannah. "Because Catherine is bored."

"Bored? Catherine? Did she tell you so?"

"Yes, I did," said Catherine stoutly. "I knew they were, too; and I thought if I owned up that I was, they would say they were, but they won't."

"Incorruptible politeness!" said Dr. Helen. "How do you account for your own sudden ennui?"

"It's not just to-day," said Catherine. "I really think my life is rather dull, anyhow. Of course, having the girls here is quite an event, but I wish there were big, exciting things I had to do or see to.

Mending, and helping Inga make salads and beds, and even going to college is tiresome. Just what every one else does. And the worst of it is that every one expects me to be enthusiastic all the time!"

They all laughed at Catherine's disconsolate tone, but Dr. Helen looked professional. "This heat is enough to make any one cross," she said. "I suppose the rest of you feel the same way, but, being guests, don't dare say so?"

"Do prescribe for us, Dr. Helen," begged Hannah. "I don't feel especially bored just now, but I often do. Going to Europe was the only event in my life!"

"And going to college in mine!" said Alice.

"Coming here is all that has ever happened to me," said Frieda solemnly.

"You poor things! It is a serious state of affairs. I suppose you pine for kidnappers, or lovers or financial difficulties or fearful illnesses or Arctic explorations."

"Exactly!" cried Catherine. "Especially the last, on a day like this.

But, really, Mother, of course, I don't feel as I said more than once in a great while, and I was talking to amuse myself; but can't you suggest something for us to do this afternoon? The more we lie around and keep cool, the warmer we grow. The Boat Club seems to have tired of picnics, and I want to do something while Alice is here,--something really interesting and pleasant to remember, something we didn't plan ourselves."

"Yes, do tell us something," the others pleaded.

Dr. Helen drew a prescription pad to her.

"Don't talk," she said, "while I am thinking. I'll undertake the case, if you will all agree to follow orders exactly, and in case of a relapse, to remember and act upon the spirit of to-day's prescription."

"Agreed!" they chorused, and then sat in silence and watched her hand as it moved over the little sheets. These she folded like powder-papers, endorsed on the outside, and handed over to her patients.

"To be taken at half-past three o'clock, in good spirits and your prettiest afternoon frock," read Hannah. "I didn't suppose that you would prescribe spirits, Dr. Helen! What does yours say, Catherine?"

"They are all alike on the outside," said Dr. Helen. "Now run away and play. I have telephoning to do, and mustn't be bothered."

They bent over her for kisses and danced away, looking anything but bored.

At half-past three, dressed according to orders, they gathered on the porch, and at a signal opened their little papers.

There was a minute of silence, and then their eyes met, annoyed and yet amused a little.

Hannah spoke first.

"Evidently the rest of you aren't any more fascinated than I am! I didn't count on going off all by myself to see a stranger! But we asked for a prescription, and we all promised to follow it, so here goes.

Doctors always give disagreeable medicine!"

"Mine isn't unpleasant, except that I have to do it alone," said Alice.

"Which way does Madam Kittredge live, Catherine?"

"Two doors beyond Dot's, where we were yesterday. You can't miss it. I wish I could go with you, but let's hurry up and get back. Do you know the way to yours, Frieda?"

"It tells the way plainly enough," said Frieda, grumbling a little. "But I think I wish I were a scientific Christian, like the ones you told me about!"

The others laughed sympathetically.

"Too late to save yourself now," said Hannah. "Go ahead and get it over, and then we'll get even with Dr. Helen some way for playing us such a mischievous trick. Good-by. I have to go down town for mine."

Dr. Helen from her window watched them separate, and smiled. A few minutes later Bert appeared, looking for some one to amuse him.

The doctor told him of the malady that had seized her maidens, and of their quest for healing.

"It's an epidemic," said Bert solemnly. "I've got it bad, and I saw Arch an hour ago, and he was so low he couldn't even smile. Said he was going to cut out paper dolls or string b.u.t.tons, if this kept up. Can't you prescribe for us, Doctor?"

"Why, yes. Get Archie and bring him up here to supper this evening. Tell him he needn't smile. Perhaps my ladies-errant may have stories to tell that will ease your pain a little!"