Red Peppers Patients | Page 6

evening."
"Of course I know," Burns responded, his hand resting gently on the
frail shoulder, his voice as tender as that of a son's to a father whom he
knows he is not long to see.
There was a woman in the room, an old woman with a pathetic face and
eyes like a mourning dog's as they rested on her husband. But her voice
was cheerful and full of quiet courage as she answered Burns's
questions. The pair received Gardner Coolidge as simply as if they

were accustomed to meet strangers every day, spoke with him a little,
and showed him the courtesy of genuine interest when he tried to
entertain them with a brief account of an incident which had happened
on his train that day. Altogether, there was nothing about the visit
which he could have characterized as painful from the point of view of
the layman who accompanies the physician to a room where it is clear
that the great transition is soon to take place. And yet there was
everything about it to make it painful--acutely painful--to any man
whose discernment was naturally as keen as Coolidge's.
That the parting so near at hand was to be one between lovers of long
standing could be read in every word and glance the two gave each
other. That they were making the most of these last days was equally
apparent, though not a word was said to suggest it. And that the man
who was conducting them through the fast-diminishing time was dear
to them as a son could have been read by the very blind.
"It's so good of you--so good of you, Doctor," they said again as Burns
rose to go, and when he responded: "It's good to myself I am, my dears,
when I come to look at you," the smiles they gave him and each other
were very eloquent.
Outside there was silence between the two men for a little as they
walked briskly along, then Coolidge said reluctantly: "Of course I
should have a heart of stone if I were not touched by that scene--as you
knew I would be."
"Yes, I knew," said Burns simply; and Coolidge saw him lift his hand
and dash away a tear. "It gets me, twice a day regularly, just as if I
hadn't seen it before. And when I go back and look at the woman I love
I say to myself that I'll never let anything but the last enemy come
between us if I have to crawl on my knees before her."
Suddenly Coolidge's throat contracted. His resentment against his
friend was gone. Surely it was a wise physician who had given him that
heartbreaking little scene to remember when he should be tempted to
harden his heart against the woman he had chosen.

"Red," he said bye and bye, when the two were alone together for a few
minutes again in the consulting room before he should leave for his
train, "is that all the prescription you're going to give me--a trip to
California? Suppose I'm not successful?"
Red Pepper Burns smiled, a curious little smile. "You've forgotten what
I told you about the way my old man and woman made a home
together,' and worked at their market gardening together, and read and
studied together--did everything from first to last together. That's the
whole force of the illustration, to my mind, Cooly. It's the standing
shoulder to shoulder to face life that does the thing. Whatever plan you
make for your after life, when you bring Alicia back with you--as you
will; I know it--make it a plan which means partnership--if you have to
build a cottage down on the edge of your estate and live alone there
together. Alone till the children come to keep you company," he added
with a sudden flashing smile.
Coolidge looked at him and shook his head. His face dropped back into
melancholy. He opened his lips and closed them again. Red Pepper
Burns opened his own lips--and closed them again. When he did speak
it was to say, more gently than he had yet spoken:
"Old fellow, life isn't in ruins before you. Make up your mind to that.
You'll sleep again, and laugh again--and cry again, too,--because life is
like that, and you wouldn't want it any other way."
It was time for Coolidge to go, and the two men went in to permit the
guest to take leave of Mrs. Burns. When they left the house Coolidge
told his friend briefly what he thought of his friend's wife, and Burns
smiled in the darkness as he heard.
"She affects most people that way," he answered with a proud little ring
in his voice. But he did not go on to talk about her;