The strange house or, A moment's mistake
"Did he give any reason for his fancy?" asked Gertrude.
"Only his treatment of little Lester. He said directly he saw his way
with Lester, he knew that he was worth training in his special branch
of the profession. Fritz says Otto's fortune is made."
"It was made to-day," said Otto, smiling; at which all the others could
not help smiling too.
"When do they sail?" asked Gertrude, partly because she was very
desirous of knowing, and partly to turn the subject.
"Ah," said Otto, "I have not told you that! The fact is, I can hardly
bear to think of it. Yet it must be said."
"And it is—" said Gertrude, while her heart sank at the long parting.
Her life had seemed nothing but partings lately.
"On Wednesday."
"We can bear it!" she said, looking up. "We have so much now."
Otto did not answer. He had turned to the window, but after a moment he
came back.
"When must you go, dear Gertrude?"
"I ought to be at home by seven, I thought. They did not name a time,
but as Mrs. Shaddock is ill, and little Randall very poorly too—"
"And shall I be able to see you again? Gertrude, do not shake your
head—surely when they hear all they will spare you?"
"They have been so kind already," said Gertrude, "but, Otto—"
"No 'buts,'" said Otto. "I must call on Mr. Shaddock on Monday before
I go down to Lanriffe to get some of my belongings. I shall ask him to
allow you to come to Gravesend to see us off."
"I can ask—" said Gertrude, hesitating. Her wishes pulled her one way,
her objection to be further troublesome another.
"That will be best," said Fritz, turning to Otto. "Nobody with any
consideration would refuse such a request as that. A whole year!"
The afternoon passed all too quickly. Gertrude sat and caressed little
Lester, feeling as if she could never part with him. Rose hovered over
the two as if too full of joy and sympathy to say much. Fritz paced up
and down the room watching them all, and joining in whatever was said.
Otto sat near Gertrude, content to be in her company, and to hear her
talk to her sister.
At six o'clock, Gertrude said she must go, and Otto prepared to
accompany her to Hampstead.
Rose did not know how to part from her. She clung to her and whispered
words of thanks and blessing, for had not Gertrude been the means of
restoring her child?
"Look here, sister Gertrude," said Fritz, taking her hand, when at last
she really was going. "You tell those people that Rose and I want you
with Lester! Rose will have to have somebody to be out all day with
him, why not you? She will slave herself to death else. You tell them
so, and come home to us! I never thought of it before!"
"And you must not now, dear Fritz," she answered gratefully, "indeed
you must not. I could not leave them with my work half done. It is bad
enough to think of only a year."
"Well, that you will have to tell them," interposed Otto.
"Yes," she said, "but not the other. I must stay with them a year, at
any rate, if they want me. I have Randall to win yet!"
An hour after, Gertrude walked into the house, having said good-bye
to Otto; good-bye till the Wednesday which he assured her he should
arrange for, and then a long good-bye such as they did not like to
think of.
CHAPTER XLVI.
NURSE'S PLAN.
GERTRUDE stood within the threshold.
She heard Conway's voice speaking in a hushed tone on the stairs, she
saw Mollie's skirts at the corner, and heard her reply In the same awed
way, and then both turned and saw her, and came quickly down to her.
"Miss Ashlyn!" Mollie whispered. "Mother has been so dreadfully ill all
the afternoon, and we have been obliged to send for the doctor. And now
he has come it is worse still, because he has seen Randall, and he says
he has the scarlet fever."
"What?" asked Gertrude in a startled tone, but she had heard well
enough.
"Yes," added Conway; "is it not dreadful? Father is not yet home, and
we are not to even tell mother, her heart is in such a weak state—and
Dr. Forde says either Randall must be taken somewhere to be nursed, or
we must all go away from home."
They had mechanically moved into the dining-room, and stood round the
end of the table looking at each other.
"Nurse says," pursued Ned, who was sitting with his lessons in his
hand, "that if she could leave mother, she would take him somewhere.
But then she cannot, or mother might die, and besides, we don't know of
any place. And it must be done in a hurry, that is the worst of it."
"Where is Randall?" asked Gertrude.
"He is in the nursery at the top. Nurse would not have him put to bed
till you came, because she wanted to consult you about a plan she has
thought of."
"I will go to her, then. Is she up there?"
"Yes—but do not go in, Miss Ashlyn; call nurse outside."
"Very well, but somebody must go in, you know."
She ran up-stairs, and tapped lightly at the closed door.
Nurse came out at once.
"Oh, Miss Ashlyn!" she said in a low voice. "We are in trouble, and no
mistake. If his mother could be asked—but the doctor absolutely forbids
that. I have thought of one way out of it, but I hardly dare ask such a
thing. Have you ever had it, miss?"
"When a child, I believe I did."
That was not the thing that nurse hardly dared ask.
"Miss Ashlyn—if we could find a house—a cottage—or an empty house near
where they would take him in, could you go with him there? I know his
parents would not hear of a hospital, and I have heard of such things
being done, if I only knew where—"
"You want me to find such a place and take him—to-night?"
"That is the only thing I could think of," apologized nurse. "I would
go in a minute, but I should never forgive myself if my doing so caused
his mother's death. The doctor says the slightest alarm might be fatal
in her present state."
Gertrude felt stunned, while nurse could do nothing but gaze anxiously
in her face. How little she knew all that was passing in her mind!
"May I have five minutes to consider it?" asked Gertrude, feeling as if
all the world were turning round.
She went to her room and shut the door.
Slowly, with her hands pressing her forehead till it ached with the
pressure, she knelt down by the side of her bed.
She could not pray; she could only think of the five minutes at her
disposal for her decision, and the numberless things which she must
decide.
Wednesday! Where would be her promise to Otto to come down to Gravesend
to bid him farewell? If she were established as sole nurse to little
Randall, she would not be able to leave him to go to Gravesend?
And even if she could leave him, how about carrying a chance of
infection to that out-bound vessel, which would contain so many
precious lives? How about carrying infection to that only boy whose
life was so infinitely precious to his parents? That boy whom Otto had
already undertaken to guard and cherish to the best of his ability?
And then, supposing she could undergo the sacrifice of not seeing Otto
again, for whom was this sacrifice to be made? For Randall, whom in
that moment of anguish she acknowledged as having almost regarded as
her enemy!
"I cannot do it," she moaned. "I cannot—it is too hard, too much. Oh,
how could nurse ask it?"
And then amidst her tears she bethought herself of praying.
"Lord, what wilt 'Thou' have me to do?" she whispered.
If she could have asked any one's advice! If Otto could be consulted!
If he should bid her do it, would she not gladly, cheerfully?
"Lord, what wilt 'Thou' have me to do?"
Then she gave up all her questioning, all her disappointment, all her
anxiety into His hands, and as she knelt, a wonderful peace stole over
her.
"If thine enemy—" Gertrude started at the word. Surely, surely, it
could not be that she was cherishing such a thought! "'If thine enemy
hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink.'"
"O my Lord," she whispered, "I will do whatever Thou dost point out!
Thou knowest best, only let me have Thee with me, whatever it is, and
wherever I am!"
She rose from her knees, and with the tears still wet on her face, she
went back to nurse.
At her soft knock nurse came back, looking intently in her face.
"If his father wishes it, I will do it. I believe I know a house to
which I could take him at once."
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE STRANGE HOUSE AGAIN.
"WHAT does she say?" asked Conway, coming to the foot of the stairs as
Gertrude came down.
"Will you come with me, Conway? I have a question to ask before I can
propose nurse's plan to your father."
She moved to the front door.
"Now?" asked Conway.
"Yes; it will not take us long."
They went out into the darkness, and Gertrude turned towards the
Strange House at once.
"Here?" asked Conway, utter astonishment in his tone.
"Yes; I believe Mrs. Swift will help us."
Mrs. Swift came at once to the door, and, without noticing Conway in
the dark, she exclaimed the moment she saw Gertrude—
"Oh, miss! Such a wonderful thing! My husband has seen a doctor, miss,
and he has told me what to do. It's bronchitis, miss; that's what it
is!"
"I am very glad you were able to prevail upon him—"
"It was like this, miss. There was a doctor's carriage going up and
down for ever so long this afternoon, and I watched it till I felt
nearly frantic. Then I thought, dear miss, of what you had said about
my Mighty Helper, and I did ask Him to make it all plain. Then I went
straight to my husband, and told him there was a doctor outside, and
might I call him in?"
"I am so glad—"
"He was awfully bad just then, and he said yes; so I told the coachman,
and presently in he came."
"I am truly glad," said Gertrude again; "I hope he will soon be much
better."
"I can never thank you, miss, for all you have done for me. As I have
been helped so much in this, I shall go on to other things."
"Yes," said Gertrude, thinking of the words which often ran through her
mind, "Because Thou hast been my help, therefore under the shadow of
Thy wings will I rejoice." "Yes, indeed, you will find it so over and
over."
"It is kind of you to come in, miss—"
"I did not come just now for kindness," said Gertrude, feeling that
her words were binding her at once to the plan which involved her
imprisonment for weeks, "but to ask a great favour."
"A favour of 'me,' miss?"
Then Gertrude briefly explained the case, and made her request, which
was, supposing of course that Mr. Shaddock approved the plan when he
heard it, that Mrs. Swift should lend them two rooms in which to nurse
little Randall, and help her by cleaning and cooking for her, and by
communicating with the outward world for her.
Mrs. Swift ran to ask her husband, and in a few minutes came back with
her reply.
And when she was gone, Conway drew nearer Gertrude, and said in a low
tone—
"Miss Ashlyn, I should like to shake hands. I do declare it is the
kindest thing I ever heard. And considering my mother's state, and
that all of us should have to turn out, nobody knows where, it is an
admirable idea. But it is asking a great deal of you!" He held out his
hand and shook hers warmly. "I feel I have not behaved to you as I
should—not been right down jolly, you know."
Gertrude understood, but she only said, "Thank you, Conway," very
softly. Her heart was very full; for what would Otto feel when he
realized that they should not be able to say good-bye?
Mrs. Swift returned and brought an earnest consent with her. "My
husband said, 'If we can do anything for the young lady that has been
such a comfort to you, let us do it by all means.'"
So Gertrude and Conway went back.
"I wonder if your father will be at home yet?" she said as they entered
their own garden.