“TO-DAY’S the first day of the holidays!”
That was Gretta’s waking thought, as she lay in her bed at home, on the morning of the Cliff School prize-giving. To this important function she had been specially invited by Miss Slater, who had written suggesting that, if the doctor’s health permitted of it, she should take the opportunity of seeing her old friends again. The letter had been received and answered more than a week ago, but the doctor had not been apprised of its contents. He was making such good progress, thought Gretta, that it would be a pity to worry him with a request for the money necessary for her ticket, and, besides, suppose he should have a relapse while she was away! Also, she knew that if once she were to be received back into the arms of her friends at the Cliff School, it would be terribly difficult to settle down once more to the duties of home; the battle would have to be fought and won all over again, and probably would prove harder than ever.
“So I’m glad I didn’t go,” she remarked to herself in the intervals of dressing. “And, besides, Margot’s coming for the holidays!”
This certainly was enough to be happy about, and there were other things, too. Gretta’s worries—all, of course, but the insuperable one—were smoothing themselves out in a wonderful way. To begin with, Mr. Courtney had proved a veritable friend in need to the doctor, and incidentally an immense comfort to the little nurse. His constant visits and the influence of his cheery personality had proved to be the very tonic needed by the invalid, who was now surely, if very slowly, regaining his health and spirits.
“So dad’s to be ‘down’ to-day, and Margot and Sybil are coming home, too,” thought Gretta in delight. “Oh, it’ll be the most lovely day!” She descended to the dining-room, noticed a letter lying beside her plate; refrained from casting more than a glance in its direction until her father’s tray was carried upstairs; then, on her return to the breakfast-table, tore open the envelope, and for several minutes was deep in its contents.
Five minutes later a madly excited girl, with eyes bright and shining, cheeks pink, and lips parted, burst breathless into the doctor’s room.
“Dad! Dad! Dad!”
“Why, what’s the matter?” Her father looked surprised, to say the least of it, at this unexpected appearance of his usually staid nurse.
“Dad! Oh, but I can’t tell you. It can’t be true!”
“But what is it?” The doctor began to feel vaguely anxious. “If it’s the letter that you’re waving, let me see!”