“I did. He wanted to know why I was home at that time o’ day and I said I was sent home for talking back.”
Which proved that Tommy wouldn’t lie to serve himself. Meadowcroft’s heart sank. He wished he had done anything rather than bring that punishment upon the boy. It began to look as if it had been a mistake—a huge error for him to take the school. He had brought this upon one of his friends and had apparently alienated the other. And yet, had he wished to refuse to help out Mr. Appleton he could hardly have done so. And having gone so far, he couldn’t retreat now.
“I am right sorry about that. Tommy. I wish with all my heart I could do something about it,” he said earnestly.
“You needn’t be sorry. It was just right. For once in his life dad did the correct thing,” the boy declared staunchly.
Reaching the house, Meadowcroft asked Tommy to come in, but Tommy was due at home. Meadowcroft hesitated.
“Shall you see Betty?” he asked. And Tommy said that he should.
“You might say to her that I shall be right here to-night and to-morrow after school and all day Saturday and Sunday,” he said. “If she should feel like talking things over, it might be easier and simpler here.”
Tommy delivered the message immediately. Betty heard it indifferently. Indeed, it failed to penetrate her wretchedness sufficiently to make any impression. Terrible as the experience of that morning had been, it already seemed to the girl far, far in the past. Her one thought was of Rose and of the weekly visits to Dr. Vandegrift. If the latter were over, if Rose was condemned to perpetual blindness, what did anything matter?
All day, the girl’s heart had been like a stone. Never in her life had she known such wretchedness. She had proposed to Rose that they should take the train home. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t have preferred to walk, but that she knew she couldn’t possibly keep up her courage with Rose for so long a period. Rose apparently hadn’t suffered greatly yet; but that was because she hadn’t yet realized the import of it all. Betty, convinced against her will that all was lost, wouldn’t, nevertheless, give up yet. But she wanted to have forced some hope out of the situation before she should see Rose again.
Finally, it came to her that they could get Dr. Vandegrift to see them on Wednesday at three o’clock or a quarter of an hour before. His time was all taken, she knew, but he might be able to manage it by changing another patient. Then they could go directly after school. That would make them very late in getting home and it would be very difficult to arrange with Aunt Sarah and Mrs. Harrow. Tommy could probably contrive something to satisfy the latter; but Aunt Sarah seemed hopeless. And yet, Betty couldn’t let her block Rose’s cure—couldn’t let her ruin Rose’s whole future. Over Sunday Betty debated appealing to her father. On Monday morning she decided to go to him that night and ask his permission to come home late for one night a week, explaining that Rose wished it very much. By the time she reached school, the girl was full of hope.