Lucy was at the window, trying to find the elusive red streak on the thermometer, and now she declared with an air of relief after Hilda's announcement, "It's normal. Just at the little arrow."
"But what's the matter with her pulse, Miss Thomas?" Hilda insisted. "It should be around eighty, shouldn't it?"
Marian was looking alarmed herself, and still sat anxiously on her chair, as though her strength might fail her. Miss Thomas laughed and went over to her side.
"It's nothing but a little excitement, because she knew her pulse was being taken," she explained. "You're quite all right, Miss Leslie, and you did very well. Now, Miss Houston, suppose we say that you are a patient who has been ill several weeks. Just slip off your pumps and lie down on the bed. Let's see if Miss Gordon can raise you comfortably to give you a drink and help you to turn over. Act very helpless and do nothing for yourself."
Julia obeyed and Lucy, putting a strong arm behind her shoulders, raised her vigorously to a sitting position.
"Oh, you are a little too energetic," said Miss Thomas. "That would hurt any sore muscles outrageously. Try again. Raise her firmly but more slowly."
This time Lucy lifted Julia as tenderly as a basket of eggs, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was done, for Julia made herself as heavy as possible, and looked the most helpless invalid out of a hospital.
"You try it now," said Miss Thomas, nodding to Mabel Philips, "and this time arrange her pillows with your other hand before letting her lie back."
Marian was standing by the bedside, her uneasiness about herself forgotten as she watched Julia, and Miss Thomas reached out a steady hand and felt her pulse.