"But Doctor--"
"Shall I send you my bill, too?" he asked.
A few moments later she heard the quick step of big Jim and the rattle
of the wheels.
Two hours had passed when in response to a low knock, the nurse opened
the door to find Dr. Oldham standing in the narrow hall. The old
physician was breathing heavily from his effort in climbing the rickety
stairs. His arms were full of roses.
Miss Farwell exclaimed with delight, "Oh Doctor, just what I was wishing
for!"
"Uh huh," he grunted. "I thought so. They'll do her good. Harry told me
what you were up to. Thought I better come along in case you should need
any help."
He drew a chair to the bedside, while the nurse with her sleeves rolled
up returned to the work which his knock at the door had interrupted.
Clean, white sheets, pillows and coverings had replaced the tattered
quilt on the bed. The floor was swept. The litter about the stove was
gone, and in its place was a big armful of wood neatly piled, the
personal offering of Uncle George, who had returned quickly with the
things for which the nurse had sent. The dirt and dust had vanished from
the windows. The glaring light was softened by some sort of curtain
material, that the young woman had managed to fix in place. The bare old
cupboard shelves covered with fresh paper were filled with provisions,
and the nurse, washing the last of the dishes and utensils, was placing
them carefully in order. She finished as Dr.
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