“It is because so many of them are charity patients or semi-charity and they always want to get all they can,” he would declare. “Of course, a doctor’s night rates are higher than day rates, and when they are getting something for nothing, if they call me up at two a. m. they are getting more for nothing than they would be if they had their toe aches in the day time.”
Ten days had passed since the half-drowned sailors had been picked up by the English fishing smack, and still no message from Kent.
Mrs. Brown wrote and dispatched her letter to Judy Kean. It was a hard letter to write, much harder than it would have been had there been an engagement between the two. The good lady felt that Judy was almost like a daughter and still it required something more than existed to address her as one. She must convey to Judy the news that Kent was shipwrecked, and still she wanted to put in the girl’s heart the faith she had in his safety.
“Poor Judy! If she is alone in Paris, think what it will mean for this news to reach her!” Molly agonized to herself. “She may and may not care for Kent enough to marry him, but she certainly is devoted to him as a friend. She will feel it just so much more keenly because he was on his way to her.”
Molly could not sleep in her great anxiety, and her faith and the certainty of Kent’s safety left her. “I must keep up for Mildred’s sake,” she would cry as she tried to choke down food. Her every endeavor was to hide this loss of faith from her mother, whose belief in her son’s being alive and well never seemed to falter.
Daily letters from Edwin were Molly’s one comfort. He was back in the grind of lectures at Wellington and was missing sorely his wife and child.
“Molly darling, you mustn’t wait any longer in Kentucky,” her mother said at breakfast one morning. Molly was trying to dispose of a glass of milk and a soft boiled egg, although her throat seemed to close at the thought of food.
“But, Mother, I wouldn’t leave you for anything in the world,” she declared, making a successful gulp which got rid of the milk, at least.
“Your husband needs you, child, and I know it would be best for you. There is no use in waiting.”
Molly looked up, startled. Had her mother, too, lost heart? Her face had grown thinner in those days of waiting and her hair was quite grey, in fact, silvery about the temples; but her eyes still held the light of faith and high resolve.