Only an Incident Part 14

"Hullo, up there! I say!" shouted a voice in the hall below, "how's Phebe?"

"Oh, it's d.i.c.k!" cried the Dexter girls in a breath. "You can't come up, d.i.c.k."

"Ain't a-going to. But a fellow can speak, can't he, without his body a-following his voice? How's Phebe?"

"She's splendid."

"What's the doctor say?"

"He says she only needs to be kept perfectly quiet."

"Hooray!" said d.i.c.k, and apparently executed a war-dance on the oil-cloth, while Olly profited by the general hubbub created by the entrance of two more ladies, to satisfactorily investigate the sponge-cake.

"Why, quite a levee, isn't it, Phebe?" said one of the last arrivals, looking in vain for a chair, and forced to seat herself on a low table, accidentally upsetting Phebe's medicines as she did so.

"Yes, altogether too much of one," said Gerald, knitting her brows as she rescued a bottle just in time, and darted an angry glance around the crowded room. "Phebe isn't at all equal to it yet."

"You are right, Miss Vernor," agreed Mrs. Upjohn, drawing out her tatting from her pocket, and settling herself at it with an answering frown. "There are quite too many here. Some people never know when to stay away."

"Oh, there's Bell. I hear her voice," called Mattie, running to look over the banisters. "She's got both Mr. De Forest and Mr. Moulton with her."

There was a sound of many voices below, a giggling, a rush for the stairs, and a playful scuffle.

"It's me" (Bell's voice); "d.i.c.k won't let me pa.s.s."

"Me is Bell" (d.i.c.k's voice); "she wouldn't pa.s.s if she could. Too many fellows down here for her to want to leave 'em. Send us down a girl or two from up there, can't you?"

A girl or two, however, apparently appeared from outside, greetings were called up to Phebe, offerings of flowers and delicacies transmitted _via_ d.i.c.k on the stairs to Olly at the top (who took toll by the way), and the liveliest kind of a time went on. It was quite like a party, d.i.c.k shouted up, only that there was no ice-cream and a singular scarcity of girls.

"It's a shame," said Mrs. Upjohn, severely, in her chair, while Gerald held her peace, too wrathful to speak, and conscious of her inability to mend matters. "I should think people might have sense enough not to crowd all the air out of a sick-room in this fas.h.i.+on."

"It's exceedingly inconsiderate of them, I am sure," answered Mrs.

Hardcastle, drawing a sofa cus.h.i.+on behind her back. "She ought to be so quiet."

"Phebe!" shouted d.i.c.k. "Here's the parson. He wants to know if you're dead yet. Shan't I send him up? It will be all right, you know, quite the thing. He's a parson, and wears a gown on Sundays."

"d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k!" screamed his mother. "Was there ever such a lad!"

"He's coming. Get ready for him. Have out your Prayer-books,"

called d.i.c.k.

Phebe flushed crimson, and looked imploringly at Gerald. An indignant murmur ran through the room. Mrs. Upjohn drew herself up to her severest height. "What shameless impertinence! How dare he intrude!" A shout of unholy laughter downstairs followed d.i.c.k's sally.

"Mr. Halloway isn't there at all," cried Olly, his fine, clear-voice pitched high above the rest, "He only asked about Pheeb at the door, and went right off."

"Well, he left this for her with his compliments, and this, and this,"

called d.i.c.k, rummaging in his pockets, and tossing up an apple, and then a hickory nut, and last a good-sized and dangerously ripe tomato. Olly caught them dexterously with a yell of delight, and was immediately rushed at by three of the nearest ladies and ordered not to make a noise, for Phebe was to be kept perfectly quiet.

"Such doings would never be permitted a moment if she had only been in Dr. Harrison's hands," said Mrs. Upjohn, in denunciatory tones. "He would have forbidden her to see any one. It is scandalous."

"It is outrageous," added Mrs. Hardcastle. "Most inconsiderate."

"Ah, I can't get over it that it isn't your legs, poor dear!" murmured Miss Delano, still plaintively overcome. "And you will walk, after all?"

"Dr. Dennis is an excellent physician," said Mrs. Dexter, somewhat defiantly. It was impossible not to enter the lists against Mrs. Upjohn.

This last lady was immediately up in arms, and a heated discussion as to the respective skill of the two pract.i.tioners took place, everybody gradually taking sides with one or the other of the leaders, and forgetting both poor exhausted Phebe and the noise downstairs, which finally culminated in a rousing lullaby led by Bell, and l.u.s.tily seconded by half a dozen others:

"Slumber on, Phebe dear; Do not hear us fellows sigh!"

The song, however, suddenly stopped in the midst. Some one seemed speaking very low and softly, and neither the chorus nor the laughter nor the tumult was resumed. Phebe drew a deep breath. Was relief really coming at last? Yes. Soeur Angelique stood in the door-way.

"Will you excuse me, ladies," she said, in that soft, irresistible voice of hers, as she laid aside bonnet and shawl in a quiet, business-like way. "I came to relieve Miss Vernor and play nurse for a while, and I think Phebe looks as if she needed a little sleep. If you will kindly take leave of her, I will darken the room at once."

She stood so evidently waiting for them to go, that in a few moments they all found themselves somehow or other outside the door, with Gerald politely escorting them down-stairs, and Olly dancing joyously ahead, crying that Mr. Halloway had sent for him to the rectory. Left mistress of the situation, Mrs. Whittridge proceeded to draw down the shades, straighten the chairs, smooth the bedclothes and rearrange the pillows, all with the noiseless, graceful movements peculiar to her. Then she drew a low chair up to the bedside, and laid her cool hand soothingly on Phebe's forehead. A great peace seemed suddenly to fill the room.

"Now, my darling, you must sleep. Between them they have quite worn you out."

"Who told you I needed you?" asked Phebe, drawing the gentle hand down to her lips. "How did you happen to come just when I wanted you so?"

"Denham sent me over," answered Soeur Angelique. "He thought perhaps I could make it a little quieter for you."

"Ah," murmured Phebe. A faint tinge crept up into her white cheeks.

She turned her head away and closed her eyes. "I knew it was he who sent you."

CHAPTER X.

AN APOLOGY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

It was some days after Phebe's accident before Halloway saw Gerald again.

She was generally upstairs when he called, or driving or sailing with De Forest, who was in daily attendance upon her, paying her persistent, blase devotion. She was in the parlor one evening, however, sitting with De Forest near the door, when Denham came in, but he merely bowed to her and pa.s.sed on to the other end of the room, where Mrs. Lane was seated with Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle. Mr. Hardcastle rose at once to receive him.

"Ah, good-evening, good-evening. Pray take a seat. I am delighted to see you. I suppose you came to ask after our little invalid. Sad accident, sir; sad accident, very. It has kept us most anxious and busy seeing after her. But she is doing nicely now. We shall have her about again before we know it." He spoke as if her recovery were altogether due to himself, for the regularity with which he had fulfilled his neighborly duties toward her, and he paused and looked at Halloway for a recognition of the same.

"It will be a bright day for us all when we have her among us once more,"

Halloway said in answer to the look. "You must tell her how much we miss her, Mrs. Lane."

"Ah, that we do," murmured Mrs. Hardcastle. "My knitting has been at a standstill ever since the poor dear child's misfortune. I have been so thankful her hands were spared. There's always some cause for grat.i.tude in every evil, after all."

"That's one way of looking at it," said Mrs. Lane, turning up the lamp and drawing her work-basket nearer. "The Lord make us thankful for all our mercies, but a misfortune's a misfortune, and I don't know as we're called upon to look at it as any thing else. Won't you sit down, Mr.

Halloway?"

"Thank you, not this evening. It is nearly time for service. I only wanted to know that Miss Phebe was doing well."

Mr. Hardcastle rose again to bow off the guest. "Sorry you can't stay, sir. In spite of our difference of faith,--and how great it is I am in hopes you will appreciate some day when you have come to see the errors of the way you are walking in,--in spite of our material differences, I say, you are always very welcome at any time. But pray don't let us detain you from what you deem your duty."

"Mr. Halloway, a moment, please," said Gerald, rising as he was going by.