Mrs. Red Pepper | Page 4

weeks preceding the wedding,
and how thankfully he had accepted her suggestion that she come to his
home just as it was, and plan for herself what disposal she would make
of the empty rooms in a house of which he had used only the wing.
Until he had seen that row of vehicles before the gate he had not
comprehended the fact that almost the entire furnished portion of the
house was the public property of his patients whenever they chose to
come. And they were there now!
The car stopped behind the house, close by the French window opening
upon a small rear porch. The window led to the large, low-ceiled room
which was Burns's own, leading in turn to his offices, and having only
these two means of entrance. Burns looked down at his wife, her
expressive face rosy with her laughter.
"I'm glad you see it that way," said he. "That sense of humour is going
to help you through a lot, tied up to R.P. Burns, M.D. Will you go into
my room, by this window? Or will you accept Cynthia's hospitality in
the dining-room? Or--maybe that's the best plan--will you just run over
to Martha's? I remember she begged us to come there, and now I see
why. Want to stay there a couple of weeks, till we can get your
living-rooms straightened out?"

She shook her head. "I've come to your home, Red," said she. "I'm not
going to be sent away! Go in and see your patients, and don't bother
about me. Cynthia and I will discover a place for me."
His face very red with chagrin, Burns took her in. The downpour of
rain had covered all sounds of the car's approach, so that neither the
Macauleys on the one side, the Chesters on the other, nor the
housekeeper herself, were aware of the arrival of the pair.
"For mercy's sake, Doctor!" cried Cynthia, and hurried across the neat
and pleasant kitchen to meet them. "I wasn't expecting you yet for an
hour. Mrs. Macauley and Mrs. Chester wasn't either. They was over
here ten minutes ago, planning how to get rid o' the folks in there that's
insisting on setting and waiting for you to come."
"Never mind them, Cynthia," said her new mistress, shaking hands.
"The Doctor will see them and I will stay with you. I've so much to
plan with you. What a pleasant kitchen! And how delicious something
smells! Cynthia, I believe I'm hungry!"
"Well, now, you just come and set right down in the dining-room and
I'll give you something," cried the housekeeper, delighted.
"That's right, Cynthia," approved Burns, much relieved. "Look after her
till I'm free." And he vanished.
"I reckon that'll be a pretty steady job," Cynthia declared, "if I'm to do
it 'till he's free.' He won't be free, Mrs.--Burns, till the next time you get
him out of town."
She led the way into the dining-room.
"Mrs. Macauley wanted to have you come to dinner there, to-night, and
Mrs. Chester wanted you, too. But Mr. Macauley said this was the
place for you to have your first dinner in--your own home, and he made
the women folks give in. So the table's all set, and I can hurry up dinner
so's to have it as soon as the Doctor gets those folks fixed up--if there
ain't a lot more by that time. Since Miss Mathewson went I've been

answering the telephone, and it seems 'sif the town wouldn't let him
have his honeymoon out, they're so crazy to get him back. Now--will
you set down and let me give you a bit o' lunch? It's only five o'clock,
and I've planned dinner for half-past six."
"It would be a pity to spoil this glorious appetite, Cynthia, though I'm
sorely tempted. I think I'll use the time getting freshened up from my
long drive--we've come a hundred and sixty miles to-day, through the
mud. Then I'll find Bob and be ready to have dinner with the Doctor."
"I'll have to take you round by the porch to get to the Doctor's
room--you wouldn't want to go through the office, with such a raft of
folks."
Ellen's bag in hand, Cynthia led the way. In at the long window she
hurried her, out of the rain which was dashing against it.
"I expect you'll think it smells sort o' doctorish," she said,
apologetically. "Opening out of the office, so, it's kind o' hard to keep it
from getting that queer smell, 'specially when he's always running in to
do things to his hands. But, land! his windows are always open, night
and day, so it might be worse."
"I think it's beautifully fresh and pleasant here. Oh, what a bunch of
daffodils on the dressing-table!