“Elsa has told me, Mrs. Danforth, of a nurse she once had by the name of Bettina March. Curiously enough, I find that this same Bettina March has quite lately been employed at the Convalescent Home here in Berkeley. She was very much liked, but she was not strong, and went away, hoping to return. She is not yet able to take up the work, and she is anxious to find some occupation which will give her, for a time, less active duties.”
“Well, and what of it?” inquired Mrs. Danforth coldly, fixing her eyes upon her visitor’s face. She and Miss Ruth had exchanged calls formally; that was all the acquaintance they had, save a chance meeting, now and then.
“I should not have intruded upon you with a personal matter, Mrs. Danforth, except for good reason,” Ruth Warren said quietly. “My Aunt Virginia, who, as you know, lives with me, feels the need of having a nurse; it will be an easy position and one which Bettina March can easily fill, as my aunt is by no means very ill. I came to ask if you have any objection to my engaging Bettina March?”
“Is it that you wish to inquire of me in regard to Bettina March’s character?” demanded Mrs. Danforth. “I know nothing against her.”
Now Mrs. Danforth was accustomed to have people a little afraid of her. She was rather surprised, therefore, to find that Ruth Warren did not show any embarrassment, but went on, in a quite simple and perfectly self-possessed manner, to say: “It is not that, Mrs. Danforth. The head-nurse at the Convalescent Home has satisfied me entirely with regard to the woman’s character. It is only on Elsa’s account that I have come to you.”
“Why should I object to your employing Bettina March on Elsa’s account?” Mrs. Danforth made things as hard as she could for Ruth Warren.
“Because my house is next to yours, and Elsa has told me that you were unwilling to have her keep up any acquaintance with her old nurse,” Ruth Warren replied, in the same even-toned voice.
Mrs. Danforth felt now obliged to explain. “Bettina March was nurse to Elsa’s mother during her last illness, and after the mother died stayed on with Elsa until her father died. I felt that the child was growing too dependent on the woman. Elsa is almost entirely without relatives. Her mother was an only child, and her father had only one brother, Mr. Ned Danforth. If he should marry, or if I should die, Elsa would be quite alone in the world and she would need to be self-reliant. I did not think she was a child who would talk over my affairs,” Mrs. Danforth remarked haughtily.
Ruth Warren could not let Elsa stand in a false light before her grandmother’s eyes. Therefore she suddenly decided to tell the story of the child’s grief over the giving away of her doll.
The coldness of Mrs. Danforth’s blue eyes gave way, little by little, to a softer expression as Ruth Warren described Elsa’s visit to her, that late evening.