A Girl in Ten Thousand | Page 8

is----"
"Oh, do run away," exclaimed Dorothy. "I cannot dress while you stand
here talking. Whatever it is, I will be with your father in two or three
minutes."
Effie ran downstairs again. Mrs. Fraser, who had let her in, had gone
back to bed. Effie shut the Frasers' hall door as quietly as she could.
She then went across the sunlit and empty street to where her father
stood on the steps at his own door. The groom who had driven the
doctor over was standing by the horse's head at a little distance.
"Well," said Dr. Staunton, "she has fought shy of it, has she?"
"No; she is dressing," said Effie. "She will be down in a minute or

two."
"Good girl!" said Dr. Staunton. "You didn't happen to mention the
nature of the case?"
"No, no," answered Effie; "but the nature of the case won't make any
difference to her."
The doctor pursed up his mouth as if he meant to whistle; he restrained
himself, however, and stood looking down the street. After a time he
turned and glanced at his daughter.
"Now, Effie," he said, "you must do all you can for your mother. Don't
let her get anxious. There is nothing to be frightened about as far as I
am concerned. If mortal man can pull the child through, I will do it, but
I must have no home cares as well. You will take up that burden--eh,
little woman?"
"I will try, father," said Effie.
Just then Dorothy appeared. She had dressed herself in her nurse's
costume--gray dress, gray cloak, gray bonnet. The dress suited her
earnest and reposeful face. She crossed the road with a firm step,
carrying a little bag in her hand.
"Well, Dr. Staunton," she said, "I hear you have got a case for me."
The doctor gazed at her for a moment without speaking.
"Bless me," he exclaimed; "it is a comfort to see a steady-looking
person like you in the place. And so you are really willing to help me in
this emergency?"
"Why, of course," said Dorothy. "I am a nurse."
"But you don't know the nature of the case yet!"
"I don't see that that makes any difference; but will you tell me?"

"And it is your holiday," pursued the doctor, gazing at her. "You don't
take many holidays in the year I presume?"
"I have had a week, and I am quite rested," said Dorothy. "I always
hold my life in readiness," she continued, looking up at him with a
flash out of her dark blue eyes. "Anywhere at any time, when I am
called, I am ready. But what is the matter? What do you want me to
do?"
"I want you to help me to pull a child back from the borders of death."
"A child! I love children," said Dorothy. "What ails the child?"
"She has acute scarlet fever and diphtheria. No precautions have been
taken with regard to sanitation. She is the child of rich people, but they
have been wantonly neglectful, almost cruel in their negligence and
ignorance. The mother, a young woman, is nearly certain to take the
complaint and, to complicate everything, there is another baby expected
before long. Now you understand. If you get into that house you are
scarcely likely to go out of it again for some time."
Dorothy stood grave and silent.
"Oh, Dorothy, is it right for you to go?" exclaimed Effie, who was
watching her friend anxiously.
"Yes," said Dorothy, "it is right. They may possibly be obliged to fill
my place at St. Joseph's. I was only considering that point for a moment.
After all, it is not worth troubling about. I am at your service, Dr.
Staunton. We may require one or two other nurses to help us if things
are as bad as you fear."
"God bless you!" said the doctor. Something very like moisture came
into his eyes. He began to blow his nose violently. "Now, Effie, you
will do your best at home," he said, turning to his daughter. "This way,
please, Miss Fraser."
"Good-by, Effie, dear," said Dorothy. She kissed her friend. The doctor

and the nurse walked toward the dog-cart; he helped her to mount, and
then drove rapidly down the street. The vehicle was soon out of sight.
"I wonder what father will think of Dorothy after this?" thought Effie to
herself. The feeling that her father would really approve of her friend
gave her much consolation. She went back into the house, and as it was
now half-past five, decided that it was not worth while to return to bed.
There was always plenty to be done in this little house with its
overflowing inhabitants, and Effie found heaps to occupy her until it
was time