CHAPTER V
WINIFRED TO THE RESCUE
When Betty next opened her eyes it was broad daylight, and the morning sunshine was peeping through the chinks of the shutters. Her first thought was of her mother, and she was glad to find that Mrs. Randall was still asleep. She was breathing heavily, but her eyes were closed, and she did not cough. Even when Betty rose softly, and crept round to the other side of the bed to look at her more closely, she did not move, although she was as a rule a very light sleeper.
"It's after seven," said Betty to herself, glancing rather uneasily at the clock; "I don't think mother ever slept so late before."
Just then she heard Jack stirring in his bed, and she hurried into the next room to tell him to be very quiet, as mother was still asleep.
"Is she better?" Jack inquired in an anxious whisper, as Betty bent over him in motherly fashion, to arrange his pillows more comfortably.
"Yes, I think so; her eyes are shut, and she's lying very still. I only just woke up myself."
"I've been awake for ever so long," said Jack; "I've been listening to mother. She doesn't cough so much any more, but she breathes so hard, and sometimes she moans. Oh, Betty, I'm frightened; I don't know why, but I am." And the poor little fellow buried his face in the pillow, and began to cry.
Betty dropped on her knees by the bedside, striving to comfort her little brother by every means in her power.
"There isn't anything to be frightened about, Jack, there really isn't," she whispered soothingly. "Mother's all right; she told me she was better last night before she went to sleep, and, oh, Jack dear, she told me something else; such an interesting story, all about father and our grandfather and Uncle Jack. I'll tell you all of it by and by. There's mother calling me; don't let her see you've been crying."
Mrs. Randall's eyes were open when Betty returned to her bedside. Indeed, the little girl's first impression was that they were unusually bright. There was a bright color in her cheeks too, but Mrs. Randall's first words quickly dispelled Betty's hope that she was better.
"I'm afraid I shall not be able to get up this morning, Betty," she said, and her voice had sunk to a hoarse whisper now; "I seem to have lost all my strength, and there is such a terrible pain in my chest that I can scarcely breathe."
"Oh, mother, what shall we do?" cried Betty in sudden consternation. "Oughtn't you to have a doctor come to see you?"
Mrs. Randall shook her head decidedly.
"No, no," she said impatiently, "I can't afford to have a doctor; I will lie here for a while, and perhaps I shall feel better. What day is it?"
"Thursday," said Betty, trying to control the sudden trembling of her knees.
"That's too bad; Mrs. Flynn is always engaged on Thursdays, I know. I thought she might be able to come in and help. Well, you'll have to manage about breakfast as well as you can. I don't want anything myself, but you must prepare some oatmeal, and boil some eggs for Jack and yourself. Tell Jack he must stay in bed a little while longer, but that just as soon as I can I will come and dress him."
That was the strangest morning Betty and Jack had ever spent. Never before in their remembrance had their mother failed to be up and about by seven o'clock. Even in those sad days, which Betty could just remember, after their father's death, her own grief had never prevented her from fulfilling the little household duties. Now she lay still, with closed eyes, scarcely noticing what went on about her. Betty brought her some tea, and she drank it thirstily, but refused to touch any food. Once she roused herself sufficiently to say that she thought a mustard plaster on her chest might ease the pain, but when Betty inquired anxiously how to make one, she did not answer, and seemed to have forgotten all about the matter.
Jack was very good and patient, but he was, if anything, more frightened than Betty, and his white, drawn little face was pitiful to see. Betty made him as tidy as she could, gave him his breakfast, and brought him his new story book to read, but he shook his head mournfully.
"I don't want to read this morning," he said; "I'd rather just lie still."
"Oh, Jack, you're not going to be ill too, are you?" cried Betty, the tears starting to her eyes.
"No, I'm not ill, only I can't read; I wish I could see how mother looks."
"She looks all right," said Betty encouragingly; "she's got a lovely color in her cheeks, only I wish she'd wake up and talk about things. I don't know what to do about going to market, and I suppose we ought to tell her pupils she can't give them any lessons to-day."
"She's talking now, I hear her," said Jack in a tone of relief. "Oh, Betty, she's calling me. Yes, mother, dear, I'm all right; I'm so glad you're better."
Betty flew to her mother's side.
"Are you better, mother?" she asked eagerly. "I'm so glad you're awake, because I want to ask——" She paused abruptly, terrified by the strange look in those bright, feverish eyes. Her mother was looking straight into her face, but did not seem to see her.
"Jack, Jack," she kept repeating in her low, hoarse whisper, "Jack, I want you. I did wrong, I know, but you will forgive me. You will be good to the children, and love them for my sake, won't you, Jack?"
Betty's face was very white, her eyes big with terror.
"Jack," she gasped, running back to her brother's room, and flinging herself down beside him in an abandonment of grief and despair, "mother's talking in her sleep; she doesn't know what she's saying. She thinks Uncle Jack is here. Oh, what shall we do—what shall we do?"
"We'll have to get some one to come and see her," said Jack with decision. "Run down and ask Mrs. Hamilton to come; I know she will, she's so kind."
Betty sprang to her feet.
"I'll go right away," she said, "perhaps she'll know what to do. Mother says she can't afford to have a doctor. Oh, there's the door bell; I'm so glad somebody's come."
She ran to the door, threw it open, and then drew back a step in surprise. The visitor was Winifred Hamilton.
"Good-morning," said Winifred pleasantly. "Mother's gone out shopping with Aunt Estelle, and she said I might come and see you and Jack. I was coming before, but I've had a bad cold ever since Saturday, and mother was afraid of the draughts on the stairs. I haven't been to school all the week. Why, what's the matter—is Jack ill?"
"No," said Betty; "Jack's all right, but oh, I'm so sorry your mother's gone out. I was just going to ask her if she wouldn't please come up here to see mother."
"Is there something the matter with your mother?" Winifred inquired sympathetically.
"She had a bad cold yesterday, and this morning she's worse. She keeps her eyes shut most of the time, and doesn't understand the things I say to her. I'm afraid she is very ill—oh, I'm afraid she is." And Betty burst into tears.
Winifred's tender little heart was filled with compassion.
"Don't cry, don't," she whispered, throwing her arms impulsively around Betty's neck; "maybe she'll be all right soon. I'll tell mother about it the minute she comes in, and she'll come right up. Do you think Jack would like to have me stay with him for a while? I might read to him while you're doing things for your mother."
Betty said she was sure Jack would like it very much, and having dried her eyes on Winifred's handkerchief, she led the way to her brother's bedside.
"Jack," said Betty softly, "here's Winifred Hamilton. Her mother's out, but she's going to tell her about mother just as soon as she comes home."
Jack looked pleased.
"I'm glad to see you," he said politely, holding out his thin little hand. "I'm usually up on the sofa by this time, but mother wasn't able to dress me this morning."
"That's all right," said Winifred, giving the outstretched hand a hearty squeeze. "When people aren't very strong they often stay in bed quite late, you know. Your mother's awake now, isn't she, Betty? I hear her talking."
Betty stole on tiptoe to her mother's door, but returned in a moment.
"She's only talking in her sleep," she said anxiously. "I spoke to her, but she didn't answer. Did you ever see any one who was very ill, Winifred?"
"I saw Mr. Bradford have an attack once," said Winifred; "his eyes were shut, and he looked very white. Mrs. Bradford sent for the doctor. Why don't you have a doctor come to see your mother?"
"She doesn't want one," said Betty, coloring. "I asked her this morning, and she said she didn't. Would you mind coming to look at her, Winifred? Perhaps you can tell what the matter is."
Winifred said she would not mind, and, hand in hand, the two little girls stole into the dark little bedroom, and stood looking down at the flushed face on the pillow. Mrs. Randall was tossing restlessly from side to side, and talking in a low, incoherent way.
"Mother," said Betty in a voice that she tried hard to make steady and cheerful, "here's Winifred Hamilton. She came up to see us, and she's going to read to Jack."
Mrs. Randall muttered something unintelligible, and her eyes wandered past the two children, and fixed themselves vacantly on the opposite wall.
"I'm not going to be ill," she said, apparently addressing some unseen person; "I can't be ill, you know. I must take care of the children; there's no one else to do it."
"She's delirious," whispered Winifred, looking frightened. "I never saw any one like that before, but I've read about it in books. I'm sure a doctor ought to see her."
Betty's cheeks were scarlet, and her eyes drooped, but she said nothing, and in silence they went back to Jack. The little boy looked imploringly at Winifred, as if with some faint hope that she might be able to set matters right.
"Do you think she's very ill?" he asked tremulously.
"I think a doctor ought to see her," said Winifred decidedly. "My friend Lulu Bell's papa is a doctor, and he's very kind. Would you like to have me ask him to come and see your mother?"
"No," said Betty sharply; "mother doesn't want a doctor; I told you so before."
"But, Betty," persisted Winifred, "she ought to have some medicine or something, and we don't know what to do for her. I know mother would send for a doctor right away if she were at home."
To Winifred's surprise, Betty suddenly put up both hands before her face, and burst into a passion of crying.
"Oh, what shall we do—what shall we do?" she sobbed, rocking herself backward and forward in her distress; "we can't have a doctor, mother said we couldn't; she said we couldn't afford it."
For a moment Winifred stood motionless, uncertain what to do or say. Jack hid his face in the bedclothes, shaking from head to foot with sobs. Next instant both Winifred's arms were around Betty's neck.
"I'll tell you what I'll do, Betty," she whispered eagerly. "I'll go and see Dr. Bell myself, and tell him all about it. He's very kind indeed. Lulu says he often goes to see poor—I mean people who can't afford to pay him, and when Lulu's kitty got run over by a trolley-car and had her leg broken, he set the leg himself, and took such good care of the kitty that she got all well again. I'll go right away; he's always at home in the morning, and I know he won't mind coming one single bit. Oh, Betty, please, please do let me."
Betty wavered, but Jack, lifting his tear-stained face from the pillow, cried imploringly:
"Yes, do go, Winifred, and, oh, please ask him to come right away. Mother must have a doctor, Betty, and it doesn't matter whether she can afford it or not."
Winifred waited to hear no more. Three minutes later she was ringing violently at her own front door bell.
"Oh, Lizzie," she cried breathlessly, as the maid opened the door, "I want you to put on your hat right away, and come with me to Dr. Bell's! Mrs. Randall is very, very ill, and Betty and Jack don't know what to do for her."
At first Lizzie seemed inclined to hesitate, but when the state of the case had been more fully explained to her, she willingly consented to leave her ironing, and she and Winifred were soon in the street hurrying towards the home of Winifred's friends.
As they approached their destination, Winifred's courage began to fail. After all, she thought, she might be doing a very bold and unheard-of thing in asking a doctor to go to see a person who had frankly stated that she could not afford to employ him. What if Dr. Bell were angry—what if he refused to go? Winifred's heart sank at the thought. Her friend Lulu would be at school she knew, but possibly her mother or aunt might be at home. Winifred decided that in that case she would tell her story to them. It would be much less formidable than appealing directly to the doctor himself. Her heart was beating very fast as they mounted Dr. Bell's front steps and when the door was opened by a small boy in brass buttons, who greeted her with a broad smile of recognition, she could scarcely summon voice enough to inquire:
"Are Mrs. Bell or Miss Warren at home, Jimmie?"
"No, Miss, they've both of 'em gone out," returned the boy, regarding her somewhat curiously. "Miss Lulu's out too; she's gone to school."
"Yes, I knew Lulu would be at school," said Winifred, "but I thought Mrs. Bell or Miss Warren might be in. I—I want to see the doctor."
"Oh, the doctor's in all right. He's got a patient just now, but you can wait in the front office."
There was no help for it then, and, with a little frightened gasp, Winifred followed the boy to the doctor's comfortable office, where she sat down on a sofa to wait until he should be disengaged. She did not have long to wait. In a few moments she heard the front door open and close. Then the door of the waiting room opened and the doctor came in.
He was a tall gentleman with a kind, pleasant face, and at sight of Winifred he came quickly forward, smiling and holding out his hand.
"Good-morning, little Miss Winnie," he said pleasantly, "and what can I do for you to-day? Nothing wrong at home, I hope."
"Oh, no, sir," said Winifred, half her fears vanishing at the sound of the doctor's kind voice; "father and mother are very well. I've had a cold, but I'm all right again now. I come—that is, I want—oh, Dr. Bell, will you please do me a very great favor?"
"Do you a favor?" the doctor repeated, still smiling, and sitting down beside her on the sofa. "Yes indeed, I will—that is, if I can. What is it?"
"It's to go and see Mrs. Randall, who lives in our apartment house," Winifred explained timidly. "She's a very nice lady, but she hasn't any money to pay a doctor with. She's very ill indeed, but she told Betty—that's her little girl, you know—not to send for a doctor, because she couldn't afford it."
The doctor looked a little puzzled.
"Perhaps she wouldn't care to see me then," he said, "if she objected to having a doctor sent for."
"Oh, yes, she would," said Winifred earnestly, "at least she wouldn't know anything about it, and Betty and Jack would be so very glad. Jack is a cripple, he can't walk at all; and, oh, it's dreadful to see him so unhappy. Mrs. Randall is really very ill. She doesn't know Betty and she keeps talking to herself the way people in books do when they're delirious.
"I said I'd come and tell you about it, and I was sure you'd come, because Lulu says you're so very kind."
The doctor smiled, but he was beginning to look really interested.
"Did your mother send you for me?" he asked.
Winifred's eyes sank.
"N—no, sir," she faltered, "mother's out shopping, and doesn't know anything about it. Perhaps I oughtn't to have come, but I didn't know what else to do, and I was so very sorry for Betty and Jack."
Winifred's lip quivered, and two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. The doctor patted her shoulder kindly.
"You did quite right to come," he said, "and I will go to see your friend to-day."
"Will you please go just as soon as you can?" Winifred asked eagerly.
The doctor rose and looked at his watch.
"It is half-past ten now," he said. "I have to stay in my office till eleven, and then I have one or two serious cases to see, but I will be at Mrs. Randall's as early as I possibly can."
"Now run along home, and if your mother makes any objections, tell her I said you did quite right to come, and that I am very glad you did."
"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you very much indeed," said Winifred gratefully, and the look she gave the doctor said more than any words could have done. With a sudden impulse, he bent and kissed her.
"You dear little girl," he said. And then another patient was announced, and Winifred hurried away.