She hardly noted the various stations as the train stopped and breathed a moment, and then dashed on. Try as she would, her thoughts recurred to the baggage-car and the burden it carried. She wondered whether they would put it off quickly at the terminal, and what it would look like. It was for such things that hospitals were built, and to a hospital with all that it implied, she was bound. New and torturing doubts of her own strength beset her. She was afraid. In her imagination she already smelled the sickening sweet halitus of iodoform and saw white-aproned nurses winding endless bandages upon bleeding gashes that would not be stanched.
An engulfing rumbling told her that they were entering the city tunnel, and near-by passengers began a deliberate assortment of wraps and parcels. The porter passed through the train, loudly announcing the last stop. There was almost a relief to Margaret’s overwrought sensibilities in his sophisticated utterance. It was a part of the great cube-jumbled, fish-ribbed metropolis, with its clanging noises and its swirl of cañoned living for which during the past weeks she had thirsted feverishly. She felt, without putting it into actual mental expression, that surcharged thought might find relief in simple things.
Lois would be waiting there to meet her. She would be glad to see her. It was pleasant to be loved and looked for. A moment or two more and the white, smoky haze that blotted the car windows lifted, and in place of the milky opaque squares appeared glimpses of wide-lit spaces and springing ironwork. The car hesitated, shocked itself with a succession of gentle jars, and came heavily to a halt. They were in the station.
Margaret alighted on the platform with limbs numb and tired. The strain of the day had given her a yearning for quiet, for the abandon of a deep chair with soft cushions, and a cup of tea. She met Lois with outstretched arms and a wan and uncertain smile against which her lips feebly protested.
“Why, Margaret, dear, how tired you look!” said Lois, kissing her. “Come, and we’ll get a cab just outside. Your train was very late. I thought you never would get here at all!”
Margaret clung to Lois’s hands. “O—h,” she said, falteringly, “do we have to go up the whole length of the train?”
“Why, yes; are you so very tired?”
“No—but——” she stopped, ashamed of her weakness. She was coming to be a nurse—to learn to care for sick people and to dress wounds. What would Lois think of her? “Do—do they unload the baggage-car now?”
“Oh,” said Lois, cheerfully, “we’ll leave your checks here; it won’t be necessary to wait for the trunks. Come, dear!” She led the way up the thronged platform. “Hurry!” she said suddenly, “there is a case in the baggage-car. I wonder where it’s going! Oh, you poor darling!”
Margaret had turned very pale and leaned against a waiting truck for support.