DR. SHAW put Nell down at the gate of the house at Lorimer’s Clearing, but he did not stay to take her in and introduce her, because a man had stopped him five minutes before, begging him to go to an urgent case two miles in another direction.
“That is what comes of being a doctor; a man is the servant of every one, and has not a moment to call his own,” he grumbled, as he urged his horse to a better pace.
“But it must be lovely to help people, and to know how to do things,” Nell said, with a sigh of envy.
“Oh, ignorance is bliss sometimes, I can assure you,” he answered, with a laugh. Then, having arrived at the gate, he got down and helped her to dismount with more courtesy than he was in the habit of showing towards the people who shared his rides.
A bad fit of shyness seized upon Nell as she passed through the gate and walked up to the house.
It was years since she had approached so grand a residence. There were white curtains to the windows, and plants growing in bright red pots, while the door was painted green and the door-frame white.
She stood hesitating a moment, wondering if there were not some humbler entrance at which she could apply for admission, when from the open window came the sound of a child’s wailing cry, and then a pain-wrung voice in fretful complaint.
“Oh, Flossie, do take baby up and keep him quiet, my head is so bad!”
“I will as soon as I can, but I’ve got to take Patsey some broth, and it is such hard work to carry baby about with me,” a tired little voice answered meekly.
Nell drew a quick breath and straightway forgot her shyness. She even forgot to knock at the door, but, pushing it open, marched into the house, dumped her bundle on the nearest chair, and whisking off the black silk cape, said cheerfully—