Spice Box (19 page)

So it was that Sterling fell into the daily habit of prayer, putting the whole matter off his own heart, beseeching the Lord to keep her and to make it plain to him what he ought to do. If only he knew that she was safe, how glad would he go and do his part for his country. “Oh God, open the way. Make this plain to me. I want to be a child of Christ, an accepted believer. So now take this trouble over and do for me, and for her.”

And one day he got a letter from an old medical college friend who had bought a practice in a city nearly two hundred miles away from Enderby. It said:

Sterling had just been breathing one of his anxious inarticulate prayers when the mail was brought in, and somehow the letter seemed as if it might be a sort of answer, a door opening for him somewhere that he did not seek for himself.

He waited only a few minutes to think it over before dashing off a brief reply.

After that letter was mailed, Dr. Sterling took new heart of hope. For some reason he felt that the answer to his prayers was on the way, and he went about his daily duties in a cheerful way. He made definite plans to leave his work in good order, cleared his desk, checked up on all records with which he had to do, and in short order got entirely ready for leaving.

This helped his whole morale so much that the nurses began to notice it.

“Well, Rose must have taken him back after all,” said Nurse Ray to Nurse Brynie. “Look at that smile on Sterling’s face. I haven’t seen him smile like that since little white Mary left. Something’s happened, that’s sure.”

“Oh yes?” said Brynie. “If you ask me, I think he’s simply glad to get away from here where he’s reminded of Mary. I don’t believe for a minute that Rose Bradford would take him back, not after all this time. She’s got too many after her. And anyhow, he’s not entirely cheered. He looked as grouchy as a sour apple tree when I took that report down from the head nurse. He’s just trying to buck up and leave a good impression in case he wants to come back.”

“I think you are wrong,” said Ray. “I heard him talking. I think he’s definitely going into the service somewhere as soon as he gets done taking over for the doctor who is sick.”

“Well, army or no army, whatever it is, he’s not for us much longer, that’s sure, and I think some of the nurses have wasted a whole lot of ammunition running after him. I don’t mean just as underlings. The head nurse smiles her prettiest every time he comes around, but he doesn’t see her any more than a fly on the wall. I think he’s off us all for life. He never takes anybody out driving anymore, do you take notice? Not since Mary left.”

“Oh, that’s just because of the shortage of gas.”

“Gas, my eye! It’s just because he’s not interested!”

“Well, have it the way you please. I’m not interested in him anymore either, so what?”

The discussion ended with the advent of a patient in the hall within hearing, and the day of Sterling’s release drew nearer and nearer.

M
eantime, in that faraway city where Dr. Blackwell ministered to his patients, no one suspected the state of things, and least of all Martha Spicer, who was congratulating herself that Ronald had brought them such a good doctor, a man they could absolutely rely upon, so good and kind.

She told him so, too, a little later, when he made his nightly visit to see the patient. She told him about the faint little “thank you” that the girl had murmured, and his face lighted with interest.

“I think that is decidedly a good sign,” he said and gave directions about watching very carefully, being sure to talk casually and not ask abrupt questions. Let the girl volunteer information about herself. At least for the present, until more normal conditions became constant.

And then as Martha showed him out, she said in her warmest tone, “We’re so very glad that we have you for a doctor. I feel as if I would like to tell you. It was such a blessing that we found
just you.
You’ve been so exceedingly kind. You’ve seemed to take such a personal interest in us, as if we were a part of your own family!”

The doctor smiled a sad, wistful little smile.

“Well, I’m sure I’ve enjoyed being in and out here among you.” He almost sighed as he said it. “It is not always that the relationship between doctors and patients becomes so exceedingly pleasant. I am sure this young girl’s case is most interesting, and I have enjoyed watching it and helping a little now and then. I do hope that she is soon to come out of this vague stage and be back to normal soon. I think you can watch for that almost any day now. Well, good night. I hope you and your patient will have a pleasant, restful night.” And then he went away, and Martha nipped a tear in the bud as she locked the door, for somehow his tone had sounded lonely. So she thanked God again for her doctor.

But the very next morning when Martha went into the guest room, she found the girl crying sofly into her pillow.

Down on her knees beside the bed went Martha, and she gathered that forlorn child into her respectable, maidenly arms.

“You poor little girl,” she said tenderly. “Now stop crying and listen to me. What is it you are crying for? Do you feel badly?”

“No,” she said sobbingly, “but I was wondering why you didn’t let me go. I was almost gone that night. I know, for I heard the doctor telling you yesterday when you thought I was asleep. And it would have been so much better for everybody if I could have gone then. There’s nobody in the whole universe that wants me, nobody cares, and I’ve no job and no place to go!”

“Now listen!” said Martha, surprised tears rolling down her own cheeks. “That’s not true, what you are saying. Somebody does care! I care! And somebody
does
love you and want you. I’m a lonely old woman, and I need you!”

The girl turned and looked at her in astonishment with solemn tear-wet eyes.

“Do you mean it?” she said. “Do you mean you would let me stay here till I could find a job and pay you for what you have done? Me, an entire stranger?”

“Certainly I do!” said Martha. “And you’re not to talk about pay now. You are visiting me now, and by and by, if you want a job, we’ll look around together and find one. I’ve been alone all my life and have been working hard. I’ve just got to a place where I can do as I please, but I find I don’t please anymore. I need somebody to help me, and I believe you are just the one, if you will.”

“But why do you do it? I’m a stranger. You don’t know what I am.”

“Yes,” said Martha, “I think I do. I think you are one of God’s little ones. And I want you to stay with me. I want you for a little sister. I never had a sister. I think we could have a happy time together; and if you want to work when you are able, why, that will be all right. But just now you are visiting me.”

“Now you’ve done it!”
said the Adversary.
“And if you’re not sorry before this business is done—”

But Martha wasn’t even listening. She was watching the light in that girl’s eyes as she flung her arms about Martha’s neck and cried out, “Oh, you are good, good,
good
and dear! I don’t see how you could possibly be lonely, as I am. You are so dear that everybody must love you wherever you go.”

“No,” said Martha, almost laughing, “they don’t, but that’s another story and a long one. And I’ve brought you a tray. Suppose you see how well you can eat this morning. You’re to eat every crumb to satisfy me.”

The girl ate with more appetite, slowly, and with a faint smile between mouthfuls.

“You’re better,” said Martha joyfully.

“Yes,” said the girl, “I’m better, and I’ll soon be able to get up and get out of your way. Excuse me. I do appreciate your invitation, but I know I must have been an awful burden. But sometime if I find work, I’ll hope to be able to pay you back.”

“Now, look here,” said Martha, jumping up, “what kind of nonsense are you talking? You certainly are not going away. That is, not unless you don’t
like
it here. You are staying with me till you are really strong and have pink in your cheeks and can enjoy life.”

“Oh, but I
do
like it here!” cried the girl. “It is like heaven! But I must get a job, and then if you want me, I’ll be glad to come back and stay with you.”

“Very well,” said Martha pleasantly. “You shall have a job. I can get one for you the minute you are well enough to take it. I’ve had a fine position in a big department store, and if I ask them to take you, they will, I know. But I shan’t do a thing about it until the doctor says you are able to work. Now, will you be a good girl?”

“Yes,” murmured the girl wonderingly.

“Very well, child. And now, don’t you think it’s about time we were introduced? I’m Martha Spicer. I’ve been supporting myself for over twenty years. Now I’ve retired, been doing nothing but what I please for more than a week, and I find it rather lonely living here alone. Now suppose you tell me your name.”

“I’m Janice Whitmore. My parents are dead, and a little while ago my only sister died, and I’m on my own. That’s about all. I told you the rest when I barged in on you.”

“There now, child. You’re not going to talk anymore. No more tears. I want you smiling. What a pretty name you have! Janice Whitmore! I like it!”

“Meow!” said Ernestine suddenly, giving a velvety bounce up on the bed and walking impertinently up to the visitor’s face with her cold little pink nose and her furry cheeks to investigate for herself. She felt it was high time some attention was paid to her, and now that the strained tones of the conversation had somewhat relaxed, she might bring herself into the limelight.

Martha tried to sweep her off, but Janice reached welcoming arms and snuggled the big cat close to her cheek, begging to have her remain, so Ernestine settled down with a smirk of triumph toward her mistress and closed one eye, mumbling her content in her loudest purrs.

“I would like to get up,” said Janice suddenly. “I want to help do something around the house. I will get well quicker that way.”

“You’ll not get up till the doctor comes! If you are tired of this bed you can come into my room and lie in my bed. That will give you a change. Can you walk that far? I’ll fix the bed for you.”

“Oh, please don’t go to all that trouble!”

“Why, it’s no trouble at all!” And Martha was off like a young girl, and soon had Janice propped up in her own bed, her hair brushed and a pink kimono around her shoulders, looking like a washed-out apple blossom after a storm.

The doctor arrived about that time and was startled to be ushered into the pleasant front room. He stood for a moment in the doorway and marveled how the little pale waif from the street had turned into this beautiful girl.

“How soon do you think she will be able to go to the shore?” asked Martha smiling.

“Shore?” asked the doctor. “Oh yes, shore. The very best thing you can do for her. Why, by next week I should say. Or perhaps sooner. Say the end of this one.”

“Oh, but Doctor, I can’t possibly do it. I’ve got to look for a job and earn some money first,” cried Janice.

“Doctor, tell her she’s to obey orders for a while yet. I have to go down to the shore on business pretty soon, and she is going with me just as soon as you think it’s all right for her to go,” said Martha.

“That’s fine!” said the doctor. “Of course you’ll do what you are told. You couldn’t possibly do any sort of work at present without running great risk of putting yourself back into bed again. You wouldn’t want to do that, would you?”

So Janice subsided, but when Martha came back from attending the doctor to the door where they had had a few words about the patient, she found Janice weeping again.

“I can’t go to the shore,” she wailed. “I haven’t any decent clothes, nor shoes, nor anything, and my suit is shiny and soiled.”

“Now, that’s all nonsense!” said Martha. “You’re my little sister, you know, and I’m giving a house party. Ronald is going along, and we’re going to have a good time. Don’t you know, you represent the girl I used to be, who never had any of the good times she wanted, nor pretty clothes. So now I’m going to have the pleasure of getting some of the things I never could get for myself. They wouldn’t be suitable for me now, pretty bright things and nice girlish things. I’m far too old, but you are going to wear them for me, and in that way I shall enjoy them. If you don’t like some of them, you can give them away or send them back, but I want to have a good time buying pretty things for you, just this once before you get to be a grand, independent lady with a job and refuse to let me do it anymore. And now, little Janice, will you call me Martha and dry those tears? What colors do you like best?”