Revelations of a Wife Part 25

"Ah, Dr. Pett.i.t I believe we have met before," d.i.c.ky said easily.

"When Mrs. Graham spoke of you I did not remember that we had seen you so recently. I am glad that we were able to get you."

"Thank you," the physician returned gravely. "Where is the patient?"

"In this room." d.i.c.ky turned toward the bedroom door, and Dr. Pett.i.t at once walked toward it. I mentally contrasted the two men as I followed them to my mother-in-law's room. There was a charming ease of manner about d.i.c.ky which the other man did not possess. He was, in fact, almost awkward in his movements, and decidedly stiff in his manner. But there was an appearance of latent strength in every line of his figure, a suggestion of power and ability to cope with emergencies. I had noticed it when he took charge of the baby in convulsions who had been brought to my apartment by its nurse. I marked it again as d.i.c.ky paused at the door of his mother's room.

"I don't know how you will manage, doctor." He smiled deprecatingly.

"My mother positively refuses to see a physician, but we know she needs one."

"You are her nearest relative?" Dr. Pett.i.t queried gravely, almost formally. His question had almost the air of securing a legal right for his entrance into the room.

"Oh, yes."

"Very well," and he stepped lightly to the side of the bed and stood looking down upon the sick woman.

He took out his watch, and I knew he was counting her respirations.

Then, with the same impersonal air, he turned to d.i.c.ky.

"It will be necessary to rouse her. Will you awaken her, please? Do not tell her I am here. Simply waken her."

d.i.c.ky bent over his mother and took her hand.

"Mother, what was it you wished me to get for you?"

The elder Mrs. Graham opened her eyes languidly.

"I told you quinine," she said impatiently. As she spoke, Dr. Pett.i.t reached past d.i.c.ky. His hand held a thermometer.

"Put this in your mouth, please." His air was as casual as if he had made daily visits to her for a fortnight.

But the elder Mrs. Graham was not to be so easily routed. She scowled up at him and half rose from her pillow.

"I do not wish a physician. I forbade having one called. I am not ill enough for a physician."

Dr. Pett.i.t put out his left hand and gently put her back again upon her pillow. It was done so deftly that I do not think she realized what he had done until she was again lying down.

"You must not excite yourself," he said, still in the same grave, impersonal tone, "and you are more ill than you think. It is absolutely necessary that I get your temperature and examine your lungs at once."

As if the words had been a talisman of some sort, her opposition dropped from her. Into her face came a frightened look.

"Oh, doctor, you don't think I am going to have pneumonia, do you?"

I was amazed at the cry. It was like that of a terrified child. Dr.

Pett.i.t smiled down at her.

"We hope not. We shall do our best to keep it away. But you must help me. Put this in your mouth, please."

My mother-in-law obeyed him docilely. But my heart sank as I watched the physician's face.

Suddenly she cried out, "Richard! Richard, if I am in danger of pneumonia, as this doctor thinks, I want a trained nurse here at once, one who has had experience in pneumonia cases. Margaret means well, but threatened pneumonia with my heart needs more than good intentions."

"Of course, mother," d.i.c.ky acquiesced. "I was just about to suggest one to Dr. Pett.i.t."

"But, doctor," d.i.c.ky said anxiously when we followed him into the living room, "where are we to find a nurse?"

"Fortunately," Dr. Pett.i.t rejoined, "I have just learned that absolutely the best nurse I know is free. Her name is Miss Katherine Sonnot, and her skill and common sense are only equalled by her exquisite tact. She is just the person to handle the case, and if you will give me the use of your 'phone I think I can have her here within an hour."

"Of course," a.s.sented d.i.c.ky, and led the way to the telephone.

I did not hear what the physician said at first, but as he closed the conversation a note in his voice arrested my attention.

"You are sure you are not too tired? Very well. I will see you here tonight. Good-by."

Woman-like, I thought I detected a romance. The tenderness in his voice could mean but one thing, that he admired, perhaps loved the woman he had praised so extravagantly.

After he went away, promising to return in the evening, I busied myself with the services to my mother-in-law he had asked me to perform, and then sat down to wait for Miss Sonnot. d.i.c.ky wandered in and out like a restless ghost until I wanted to shriek from very nervousness.

But the first glimpse of the slender girl who came quietly into the room and announced herself as Miss Sonnot steadied me. She was a "slip of a thing," as my mother would have dubbed her, with great, wistful brown eyes that illumined her delicate face. But there was an air of efficiency about her every movement that made you confident she would succeed in anything she undertook.

I have always been such a difficult, reserved sort of woman that I have very few friends. I did not understand the impulse that made me resolve to win this girl's friends.h.i.+p if I could.

One thing I knew. The grave, sweet face, the steady eyes told me. One could lay a loved one's life in those slim, capable hands and rest a.s.sured that as far as human aid could go it would be safe.

"Keep her quiet. Above all things, do not let her get excited over anything."

Miss Sonnot was giving me my parting instructions as to the care of my sick mother-in-law before taking the sleep which she so sorely needed, on the day that Dr. Pett.i.t declared my mother-in-law had pa.s.sed the danger point. Thanks to her ministrations I had been able to sleep dreamlessly for hours. Now refreshed and ready for anything, I had prepared my room for her, and had accompanied her to it that I might see her really resting.

She was so tired that her eyes closed even as she gave me the admonition. I drew the covers closer about her, raised the window a trifle, drew down the shades, and left her.

As I closed the door softly behind me, I heard the querulous voice of the invalid:

"Margaret! Margaret! Where are you?"

As I bent over my husband's mother she smiled up at me. Her illness had done more to bridge the chasm, between us than years of companions.h.i.+p could have done. One cannot cherish bitterness toward an old woman helplessly ill and dependent upon one. And I think in her own peculiar way she realized that I was giving her all I had of strength and good will.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, returning her smile.

"I want something to eat, and after that I want to have a talk with Richard. Where is he?"

"He is asleep," I answered mechanically. In a moment my thoughts had flown back to the day my mother-in-law and I had met Harry Underwood in trip Aquarium, and she had discovered he was Lillian Gale's husband.

What was it d.i.c.ky's mother had said that day in the Aquarium rest room?

"I have a duty to you to perform," she had declared, "a very painful duty, which involves the reviving of an old controversy with my son. I beg that you will not try to find out anything concerning its nature.

It is better far that you do not."

She had wished to go home at once and talk to d.i.c.ky. I had persuaded her to go first to Fraunces's Tavern for luncheon. There she had been taken ill, and in the days that had intervened between that time and the moment I leaned over her bedside she and we around her had been fighting for her life. There had been no opportunity for a confidential talk between mother and son. And I was determined that there should be none yet.

In the first place, she was in no condition to discuss any subject, let alone one fraught with so many possibilities of excitement. In the second place, I was determined that no one should discuss that old secret with my husband before I had a chance to talk to him concerning it.