On the whole, his speech did little to allay the panic. He had not only allowed that Nellie was very sick, but he had talked about “life-insurance,” and asking God for protection. Qualms of fear followed him as he went. Miss Ashton understood the assembly better than the wise physician, and before he had closed the door she regretted that she had asked him to address them.
One part of his advice, however, was sound; that regarding to the scholars at once resuming their work, and putting diphtheria out of conversation and mind. If only good advice could or would always be taken, what a different world it would be!
Fortunately here, among these two hundred girls, there were leaders both sensible and trusted, who did follow the doctor’s advice, went at once about their studies, and ably seconded the exertions of the teachers to resume the usual routine of work.
Among the most prominent of these was Dorothy Ottley. She had that indescribable moral power over the girls which comes, and one is tempted to 171 say comes only, from a consistent, faithful, gentle, loving character. She did not draw to herself that impulsive love which is here to-day and gone to-morrow, so common among girls; but if any were sad or sick or in trouble they instinctively sought Dorothy, and they always found in her what they needed.
She was plain looking; her sea-browned face, her thin, light hair that wind and wave had bleached, the pathetic look that years of a hard life had stamped upon her, could not conceal, could not even dim, the strong, true soul that looked out of her gray eye, or change the effect of the honest words her lips always spoke. Now, wherever she went, the girls clustered around her, followed her example in prompt attendance on the regular duties, and somehow, no one could have told you just how, felt safer that she was there.
Marion, Miss Ashton kept from among them. If she had been exposed to the disease from Nellie’s being with her, it might be best not to allow her to mingle with the others; besides, they would shun her, and that Marion would find hard to bear. As it was not known except to her room-mates that she had returned from her vacation, this was easy to do; and so in the pleasant guest-room Marion went on with her studies without a fear of diphtheria, only thinking of, and anxious for, the sick friend.
It was Gladys who began the series of attentions that on the second day filled Nellie’s room with gifts of flowers, of fruit, of books, even of candy and 172 pretty toys, which the girls had already begun to gather for the coming Christmas. Miss Mason, the trained nurse, was kept busy at certain hours answering the teacher’s knock who brought the gifts and the accompanying love,—and Nellie, poor Nellie, struggling with the pain and the uncertainty, was cheered and helped by loving attentions given to her for the first time in her desolate life.
Miss Ashton, hearing every hour from the sickroom, shared in the cheer and the help; there was a reward to her in this proof of the tenderness and generosity of that wonderful woman’s nature she had made it her life’s work to develop and train.
Each day there was a bulletin put up in the hall, stating Nellie’s condition. It was always cheerful. Miss Ashton wrote,—
“Nellie is cross this morning. Dr. Dawson pronounces it the best symptom he has seen since she was taken sick.”