Three or four days after the above conversation Mary stood at the window looking out at the storm which was raging. The wind was blowing fearfully and the rain coming down in torrents. “I do hope John will not be called to the country today,” she thought.
Ting-a-ling-ling-ling—three rings.
“Is this Dr. Blank's office?” asked a feminine voice.
“No, his residence.”
“Mrs. Blank, this is the nurse at the smallpox tent. Will you 'phone the office and tell the doctor it's raining in down here terribly. I'm in a hurry, must spread things over the patient.”
“Very well, I'll 'phone him,” and she rang twice. No reply. Again. No reply. “Too bad he isn't in. I'll have to wait a few minutes.”
In five minutes she rang again, but got no reply. In another minute she was called to the 'phone.
“Didn't you get word to the doctor, Mrs. Blank?” asked a voice, full of anxiety. “I'm afraid we'll drown before he gets here.”
“I have been anxiously watching for him, but he must be visiting a patient. Hold the 'phone please till I ring again.” This time her husband answered.
“Doctor, here's the nurse at the tent to speak to you.” She waited to hear what he would say.