"There is no one," she interrupted quickly. "No one to whom I would go in this condition. They would not understand."
"Then," he said, "I must secure a nurse for you."
"Am I not able to care for the p'tite?" demanded Marie. "A nurse!"
"A nurse is needed to care for you both. I am going downstairs now to summon one."
She protested feebly, and Marie vigorously, but he was insistent.
"I ought to call your family physician—"
"No, Mr. Donaldson, you must not do that."
She was firm upon this point, so he went below to do what else he might.
At the telephone he found the explanation of his inability to get the house in the fact that the receiver was hanging loose. It was another accusation. Doubtless in her weakened condition she had dropped it from her hand and turned away, too dazed to replace it. The hot shame of it dried his tongue so that he could scarcely make himself understood. In spite of this he accomplished many things in a very few minutes. The operator gave him the number of a near-by reliable nurse, and finding her in, he sent off the cab for her. Then through an employment bureau he secured a cook who agreed to reach the house within an hour. He then telephoned the nearest market and ordered everything he could think of from beefsteak to fruit, and to this added everything the marketman could think of. He had no sooner finished than the nurse arrived.
By the greatest good luck Miss Colson proved to be young, cheerful, and capable. She followed Donaldson upstairs and succeeded in winning the confidence of both the girl and Marie at once. Donaldson left them together. A little while later he was allowed to come up again.