MY DEAR DR. OGILVIE: [he wrote] Since my visit with you a matter has been brought to my attention in which I do not hesitate to ask your assistance. Two ladies whom I hold in highest esteem are in great anxiety over a friend of theirs whom they have known from childhood. This friend is a widow who has lately lost her son, having come to New York from the South a few years ago in the hope of supporting herself and the child, and being now alone here except for the ladies who are my friends and hers. Her situation, you will perceive, is common enough; but what adds to the distress in this instance is that Mrs. Reeves' eyes are affected, to what extent I do not know. I have not had the pleasure of meeting the lady myself; but I am told that her vision is not entirely to be despaired of; and my friend Doctor Hiram Wilson has great confidence in your power. It would be impossible to offer charity to Mrs. Reeves; and it would be equally impossible for her to go to the Summit to be near you without assistance; indeed, it has been impossible for her to consult an oculist here until the entreaties of my friends prevailed upon her to do so with them. But it occurs to me that you might find use for an assistant in your work in the mountains—a capable lady who has suffered enough to have sympathy with the sufferings of others, and that sort of thing. Now would you be willing to lend yourself to a mild deception for the sake of conferring a great benefit? If you can make use of Mrs. Reeves' assistance, I shall be very glad to remit to you whatever remuneration you might offer her. I should also expect to pay the usual fees for your attention to Mrs. Reeves' eyes. You will know best how to take up that matter with her, so as not to arouse her suspicions of its having been suggested to you. I should suggest that you write to me, asking whether I can advise you of a suitable person to fill the office of—whatever is the medical equivalent of parochial assistant. I am sure I may count upon your help; as I understand it, this is one of those cases whose claim cannot be denied by any one of us.
A few days later Flood went to Miss Randall with Ogilvie's reply:
Curiously enough, I have the very place for Mrs. Reeves. One of my patients, who has taken a cottage at the Summit for the summer, is looking for a companion. I am writing her by this mail to apply through you to Mrs. Reeves. We will see what we can do for those troublesome eyes; but I can manage it better if I don't have the haunting feeling that I am to be paid—you will understand that. Your parochial assistant plan sounded very tempting, but that sort of thing would be too good to be true.
Flood laughed when Rosamund looked up from reading it. "My friend Ogilvie seems to be as shy of possible charity as your Mrs. Reeves," he said.
"What do you mean?" she asked. Then he remembered that she could not know what he had written.
She saw his hesitancy and laughed. "Oh! So you've been offering charity, have you? I wish you'd let me see a copy of your letter!"
"Now what for?" he asked. "Ogilvie's idea beats mine."
"But I'd like to see your literary style," she said, still laughing at him.
"Oh, please!" he protested.
"Well, I think you are very good, Mr. Flood. The rôle of rescuer of dames is very becoming to you! If you could see my Eleanor you'd feel repaid. She is the loveliest and the dearest——"