Other Things Being Equal [14]
on 'em," answered the mother, in a loud tone, for the blushing child.
"So do I," responded Ruth; and leaning farther forward, she put them in the little hand.
But the child's hand did not close over them, and the large eyes turned piteously to her mother.
"It's paralyzed she is," hurriedly explained the mother. "Shall Mamma hold the beautiful roses for ye, darlint?"
"Please," answered the childish treble.
Ruth hesitated a second, and then rising and bending over her said, --
"No; I know of a better way. Wouldn't you like to have me fasten them in your belt? There, now you can smell them all the time."
"Roses is what she likes mostly," proceeded the mother, garrulously, "and she's for giving the doctor one every time she can when he comes. Faith! it's about all he do get for his goodness, for what with--"
The sudden opening of the folding-door interrupted her flow of talk. Seeing the doctor standing on the threshold as a signal for the next in waiting to come forward, the poor woman arose preparatory to helping her child into the consulting-room.
"Let me help Mamie, Mrs. O'Brien," said he, coming toward her. At the same moment the elegant-looking woman rose from her chair and swept toward him.
"I believe it is my turn," she said, in response to his questioning salutation.
"Certainly, if you came before Mrs. O'Brien. If so, walk in," he answered, moving the portiere aside for the other to enter.
"Sure, Doctor," broke in Mrs. O'Brien, anxiously, "we came in together."
"Indeed!" He looked from the florid, flustered face to the haughtily impassive woman beside her.
"Well, then," said he, courteously, "I know Mrs. O'Brien is wanted at home by her little ones. Mrs. Baker, you will not object, I am sure."
It was now the elegant woman's turn to flush as Kemp took up the child.
Ruth felt a leap of delight at the action. It was a quiet lesson to be laid to heart; and she knew she could never see him in a better light than when he left the room holding the little charity patient in his arms.
She also noticed with a tinge of amusement the look of added hauteur on the face of Mrs. Baker, as she returned to her seat at the window.
"Haughtiness," mused Ruth, "is merely a cloak to selfishness, or the want of a proper spirit of humanity."
The magazine article remained unread; she drifted into a sort of day-dream, and scarcely noticed when Mrs. Baker left the room.
"Well, Miss Levice."
She started up, slightly embarrassed, as the doctor's voice thus aroused her.
"I beg your pardon," she said, coming forward and flushing slightly under his amused smile. "It was so quiet here that I forgot where I was."
He stood aside as she passed into the room, bringing with her an exquisite fragrance of roses.
"Will you be seated?" he asked, as he turned from closing the door.
"No; it is not worth while."
"What is the trouble, --you or your mother?"
There had been nothing disconcerting in the Irish-woman's stare; but she felt suddenly hot and uncomfortable under the doctor's broad gaze.
"Neither of us," she answered; "I broke the tonic bottle this morning, and as the number was destroyed, I should like to have you give me another prescription."
"Directly. Take this chair for a moment."
She seated herself perforce, and he took the chair beside the desk.
"How is she since yesterday?" he asked, as he wrote, without looking up.
"Quite as comfortable."
He handed her the prescription presently, and she arose at once. He stepped forward to open the outer door for her.
"I hope you no longer feel alarmed over her health," he remarked, with a hand on the knob.
"No; you have made us feel there was no cause for it. But for your method I am afraid there might have been."
"Thank you; but do not think anything of the kind. Your nursing was as potent a factor as my directions. It is not Congress, but the people, who make the country, you know."
"That is condescending, coming from Congress," she laughed gayly; "but I must disclaim the compliment,
"So do I," responded Ruth; and leaning farther forward, she put them in the little hand.
But the child's hand did not close over them, and the large eyes turned piteously to her mother.
"It's paralyzed she is," hurriedly explained the mother. "Shall Mamma hold the beautiful roses for ye, darlint?"
"Please," answered the childish treble.
Ruth hesitated a second, and then rising and bending over her said, --
"No; I know of a better way. Wouldn't you like to have me fasten them in your belt? There, now you can smell them all the time."
"Roses is what she likes mostly," proceeded the mother, garrulously, "and she's for giving the doctor one every time she can when he comes. Faith! it's about all he do get for his goodness, for what with--"
The sudden opening of the folding-door interrupted her flow of talk. Seeing the doctor standing on the threshold as a signal for the next in waiting to come forward, the poor woman arose preparatory to helping her child into the consulting-room.
"Let me help Mamie, Mrs. O'Brien," said he, coming toward her. At the same moment the elegant-looking woman rose from her chair and swept toward him.
"I believe it is my turn," she said, in response to his questioning salutation.
"Certainly, if you came before Mrs. O'Brien. If so, walk in," he answered, moving the portiere aside for the other to enter.
"Sure, Doctor," broke in Mrs. O'Brien, anxiously, "we came in together."
"Indeed!" He looked from the florid, flustered face to the haughtily impassive woman beside her.
"Well, then," said he, courteously, "I know Mrs. O'Brien is wanted at home by her little ones. Mrs. Baker, you will not object, I am sure."
It was now the elegant woman's turn to flush as Kemp took up the child.
Ruth felt a leap of delight at the action. It was a quiet lesson to be laid to heart; and she knew she could never see him in a better light than when he left the room holding the little charity patient in his arms.
She also noticed with a tinge of amusement the look of added hauteur on the face of Mrs. Baker, as she returned to her seat at the window.
"Haughtiness," mused Ruth, "is merely a cloak to selfishness, or the want of a proper spirit of humanity."
The magazine article remained unread; she drifted into a sort of day-dream, and scarcely noticed when Mrs. Baker left the room.
"Well, Miss Levice."
She started up, slightly embarrassed, as the doctor's voice thus aroused her.
"I beg your pardon," she said, coming forward and flushing slightly under his amused smile. "It was so quiet here that I forgot where I was."
He stood aside as she passed into the room, bringing with her an exquisite fragrance of roses.
"Will you be seated?" he asked, as he turned from closing the door.
"No; it is not worth while."
"What is the trouble, --you or your mother?"
There had been nothing disconcerting in the Irish-woman's stare; but she felt suddenly hot and uncomfortable under the doctor's broad gaze.
"Neither of us," she answered; "I broke the tonic bottle this morning, and as the number was destroyed, I should like to have you give me another prescription."
"Directly. Take this chair for a moment."
She seated herself perforce, and he took the chair beside the desk.
"How is she since yesterday?" he asked, as he wrote, without looking up.
"Quite as comfortable."
He handed her the prescription presently, and she arose at once. He stepped forward to open the outer door for her.
"I hope you no longer feel alarmed over her health," he remarked, with a hand on the knob.
"No; you have made us feel there was no cause for it. But for your method I am afraid there might have been."
"Thank you; but do not think anything of the kind. Your nursing was as potent a factor as my directions. It is not Congress, but the people, who make the country, you know."
"That is condescending, coming from Congress," she laughed gayly; "but I must disclaim the compliment,