“I am not sure that we can come, then. I don’t believe we could pay that,” she faltered. “But perhaps Rose’s mother would feel she could. She doesn’t know of our coming—nobody does—and I wasn’t sure as we’d better tell her just at first. But I guess we’ll have to. And—I am almost sure she will, but I don’t feel as if we ought to make the appointment to-day.”
“Well, I am deeply interested in the case, and I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” he declared. “I’ll reduce it to three dollars. I believe you are right in feeling it would be better not to tell the young lady’s mother or anyone else about it until we are fairly near the end of the cure. There will come a time, of course, when it can’t be hidden. But for the present we’ll say nothing. I can’t afford to use the battery connected with the cup for less than three dollars, but if you will come every week and pay cash, I will do it for that—just to cover the cost of operation to me.”
“You are very good,” Betty cried impulsively.
“I don’t know,” he said, “I don’t know, I’m sure. I am interested in humanity, but I sometimes think it is my overwhelming interest in science that dominates me. And this case appeals to me scientifically, I must confess.”
Betty had made rapid calculations which seemed to justify her in making the appointment. She couldn’t, indeed, see ahead six months, but surely she was right in taking some risk. Certainly she would do great wrong to lose this wonderful opportunity.
“Then we will come next Wednesday and every Wednesday,” she said. “You can put us down, Rose Harrow and Betty Pogany, Wednesdays at quarter-past two.” And she took Rose’s hand, helped her out of the chair, and handed her her scarlet tam-o’-shanter.
“For this visit and the examination, however,” Dr. Vandegrift went on, “I shall have to ask you five dollars, which is half the customary fee.”
Again Betty’s heart sank. She had brought with her ten dollars which had been a Christmas present and which she had supposed would pay for the cure when she thought it was to be a matter of one visit. Then she had felt that it would help make out the weekly deficit. She and Rose could count on the car-fares they could save, which wouldn’t be the full ninety cents because they would have to ride more or less during the winter months, and she had twenty-five cents a week besides. Rose was a little spendthrift, and hadn’t a penny on hand, and Betty had less than a dollar outside of her gift. But she drew forth half her capital and handed it to him without a word.
He received it gravely and recorded their names.
“One thing more,” he added, with his hands on the door, “if I reduce my charges, you must promise me not only that you will not mention that fact to anybody, but that you will not let anybody know that you are coming here to me for treatment. In short, you must promise to say nothing to anybody about it.”