The Visioning | Page 3

(Katie missed none of those fine
points)--but instead she pulled the patient to a sitting position,
supporting her.
"You can breathe better this way, can't you?" she asked solicitously.
"Have you had them before? Will it go away? Shall I call some one?"

Katie rolled her head about as she had seen people do who were dying
on the stage. "Often--before. Go away--soon. But don't leave me!" she
implored, clutching at the girl wildly.
"I will not leave you," the stranger assured her. "I have plenty of time."
Miss Jones made what the doctors would call a splendid recovery. Her
breath began coming more naturally; her spine seemed to regain control
of her head; her eyes rolled less wildly. "It's going," she panted; "but
you'll have to help me to the house."
"Why of course," replied the girl who was being delayed. "Do you
think I'd leave a sick girl sitting out here all alone?"
Kate felt like apologizing. It seemed rather small--that interrupting a
death to save a life.
"Where do you live?" her companion was asking. She pointed to the
quarters. "In one of those?"
"The second one," Katie told her. "And thank Heaven," she told herself,
"the first one is closed!"
"Lean on me," directed the girl in pink, with a touch of the gentle
authority of strong to weak. "Don't be afraid to lean on me."
Kate felt the quick warm tears against her eyelids. "You're very kind,"
she said, and the quiver in her voice was real.
They walked slowly on, silently. Katie was trembling now, and in
earnest. "My name is Katherine Jones," she said at last, looking timidly
at the girl who was helping her.
It wrought a change. The girl's mouth closed in a hard line. A hard,
defending glitter seemed to seal her eyes. She did not respond.
"May I ask to whom I am indebted for this kindness?" It was asked
with gentleness.

But for the moment it brought no response. "My name is Verna
Woods," came at last with an unsteady defiance.
They had reached the steps of the big, hospitable porch. With deep
relief Katie saw that there was no one about. Nora had gone out with
one of her adorers from the barracks.
They turned, and were looking back to the river. It was May at May's
loveliest: the grass and trees so tender a green, the river so gently
buoyant, and a softly sympathetic sky over all. A soldier had appeared
and was picking twigs from the putting green in front of them; another
soldier was coming down the road with some eggs which he was
evidently taking to Captain Prescott's quarters. He was whistling.
Everything seemed to be going very smoothly. And a launch was
coming down the river; a girl's laugh came musically across the water
and the green; it inspired the joyful throat of a nearby robin. And into
this had been shot--!
Katie turned to the intruder. "It's lovely, isn't it?" she asked in a queer,
hushed way.
The girl looked at her, and at the fierce rush of things Kate took a
frightened step backward. But quickly the other had turned away her
face. Only her clenched hand and slightly moving shoulder told
anything.
There was another call to make, and instinct alone could not reach this
time. For the moment thought of it left her mute.
"You have been so kind to me," she began, her timidity serving well as
helplessness, "so very kind. I wonder if I may ask one thing more?
Am--am I keeping you from anything you should be doing?"
There was no response at first, just a little convulsive clenching of the
hand, an accentuated movement of the shoulder. Then, "I have time
enough," was the low, curt answer, face still averted.
"I am alone here, as you see. I am just a little afraid of a--a return attack.

I wonder--would you be willing to come up to my room with me--help
make a cup of tea for us and--stay with me a little while?"
Again for the minute, no reply. Then the girl turned hotly upon her,
suspicion, resentment--was it hatred, too?--in her eyes. But what she
saw was as a child's face--wide eyes, beseeching mouth. Women who
wondered "what in the world men saw in Katie Jones" might have
wondered less had they seen her then.
The girl did not seem to know what to say. Suddenly she was trembling
from head to foot.
Kate laid a hand upon the quivering arm. "I've frightened you," she said
regretfully and tenderly. "You need the tea, too. You'll come?"
The girl's eyes roved all around like the furtive eyes of a frightened
animal. But they came back to Katie's steadying gaze. "Why yes--I'll
come--if you want me to," she