CHAPTER XIII — TROUBLE, TROUBLE, TROUBLE!
This chapter thirteen is an unlucky one for Mr. Bingle. Many unpleasant things are crowded into the space devoted to this division of the narrative, although in the matter of time we leap from early March to the fifth of July with all the swiftness of one who races at break-neck speed to get away from consequences, or to put a disagreeable task as far behind as possible.
In the first place, Kathleen was permitted to remain with the Bingles far beyond the date set for her departure in the custody of a new set of parents. It so happened that on the very day selected for her departure, which was early in March, Rutherford and Imogene came down with a fever and a rash. Dr. Fiddler was summoned from the city. Just as he entered the broad portals at the front of the house, two of the nurse-maids, Stokes and Brown, walked swiftly down the back stairs with their suitcases and bandboxes in their hands.
Mr. Bingle was notified that they wanted to see him at once in the library. They appeared to be in a great hurry to catch a train for the city. From time to time, while they waited for the master of the house, they cast nervous, apprehensive looks in the direction of the door through which they had entered the room. Their apprehensions apparently were justified by the abrupt arrival upon the scene of Wright and Quinlan, the other nurse-maids, both of whom were hot and flushed and still in a state of frowsy preparation for a journey. They too had their suitcases and bundles and they too were trying to balance unfastened hats upon the top of agitated heads.
Mr. Bingle came into the room just in time to hear each of the four accusing all of the others of trying to sneak off and leave her with the bag to hold, or words to that effect. With his entrance, however, each of the hasty nurse-maids was reminded of a dreadfully sick relative in town and of the necessity for instant departure. What they wanted of Mr. Bingle was their pay—and a reference.
The poor gentleman was flabbergasted. He wanted to know what had happened. They told him in one voice that it was nearly train-time and that nothing had happened, and would he please hurry. When he suggested that they should wait and see Mrs. Bingle, they asked him to say good-bye for them, and made for the door, crowding one another rudely in their eagerness to be off. Brown saved the situation for herself and her companions by shrilly declaring that she would drop him a line from New York, advising him where to send her money and the reference, and for him not to bother now, she would trust him, of course. And then they all trooped out of the library and rushed for the front door. Three of them reached the outer air and were gone forever, but one of them, Miss Stokes, was turned back by the determined Watson, who clutched her by the arm and whispered a few sharp, convincing sentences into her ear. She set down her suitcase and began to cry, whereupon the footman kissed her and said that he'd despise her if she didn't stand by Mr. Bingle now that he needed her so much; and Stokes said that she was crying because she hated herself for even thinking of leaving and that the other girls were the scum of the earth, take it from her.
Well, it turned out that the two children had scarlet fever. Brown happened to know that Imogene had been exposed to the disease during a surreptitious visit to the cottage of the station agent, whose wife it appears was a close friend of the nursemaid, and whose baby thrived immensely on the rich foods from the Bingle establishment. So the instant the rash appeared, Brown began packing her suitcase and trunk. She tried to get away without letting the other girls into the secret, but they suspected. What might have been a dignified resignation on Brown's part, became a stampede.
That afternoon the Force automobile came for Kathleen. Mr. and Mrs. Force were confronted by Diggs as they came up the steps. He gave them the news.
"The deuce you say," said Force, backing down the steps. "Has she been exposed?"