Mrs. Red Pepper | Page 2

up and calling for me to save his life, I'd welcome the sight of
him, poor chap. But he won't be interesting, like that. He'll be a victim
of chronic dyspepsia. Or worse--she'll be a woman who can't sleep
without a dope. I have to get used to that kind by degrees, after a
vacation; I don't warm up to 'em, on sight."
"Yet they're very miserable, some of those patients who are quite able
to walk to your office, and very grateful to you if you relieve them,
aren't they?"
Red Pepper chuckled. "I can foresee," he said, "that you're going to
take the side of the unhappy patient, from the start--worse luck for me!
Yes, they're grateful if I can relieve them, but the trouble is I can't
relieve them--not the particular class I have in mind. They won't do as I
order. And as long as I can't get them comfortably down in bed, where
the nurse and I have the upper hand, they'll continue to carry out half of
my directions--the half they approve, and neglect the other half--the
really important half, and then come round and tell me I haven't helped
them any--and why not? Oh, well--far be it from me to complain of the
routine work, much as I prefer the sort which calls for all the skill and
resource I happen to possess. And the dull part is going to take on a
new interest, now, when I can escape from the office into my wife's
quarters, between times, where no patient can follow me."
She smiled, watching a big cloud, low on the horizon before them,
break into fragments and dissolve into blue sky and sunshine. "I hope,"
said she, "to be able to make those quarters attractive. You remember I
haven't seen them yet--not even the bare rooms."
"That's bothered me a good deal, in spite of the assurance you gave me,
when we discussed it by letter. If I hadn't been so horribly busy, and
had had the faintest notion of what to do with them--or if you had
wanted Martha and Winifred to put them in shape for you--"
"But I didn't! It's going to be such fun to work it out, you and I
together."

He shook his head. "Don't count on me, dear. I probably shan't have
time to do more than take you in to town and drop you in the shopping
district. You'll have to do it all. You've married a doctor, Ellen--that's
the whole story. And it's the knowledge of that fact that makes me
realize that I may as well leave my bride at the fifty-mile-stone. It'll
take my wife that fifty miles to prepare herself for the thing that's going
to strike her the minute we are home. And, by the fates, I believe that's
the stone, ahead there, at the curve of the road!"
He brought the Green Imp's pace down until it was moving very slowly
toward the mile-stone. Then he turned and looked steadily down into
the face beside him. "Shall you be sorry to get there?" he asked.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to be a bride. They are useless persons. And I
don't care much for bridegrooms, either. I prefer a busy husband. And I
shall enjoy getting those rooms in order, quite by myself. To tell the
truth I'm not at all sure I don't prefer to do them alone. I've had one
enlightening experience, shopping with you, you know."
"So you have." He laughed at the remembrance. "Yet I thought I was
pretty meek, that day. Well, so you don't mind getting to the
mile-stone?"
"Not a bit."
They were beside it now. Burns stopped the car. It was a country road,
although it was the main highway between two large cities, and on this
April afternoon it was deserted by motorists. Only in the distance could
be discerned anything in the nature of a vehicle, and that was headed
the other way.
"I suppose I'm a sentimental chap," he observed. "But in one way I've
been rather dreading getting home, for your sake. It's come over me,
since we turned our faces this way, that not a thing has been done to

make my shabby old place fit for you--except to clean it thoroughly.
Cynthia's seen to that. Does it seem as if I hadn't cared to give you a fit
welcome home?"
His eyes were a little troubled, as they searched hers. But they grew
light again as they read in her serene glance that she did not
misunderstand him.
"Red," said she--and her hand slipped into his--"I like best to come into
your house, just as it is. Take me in--that's all I ask--and trust me to
make my own home there--and in