CHAPTER XXI
BY this time it had come to be generally if tacitly understood both in South Paulding and at the high school that Rose Harrow should have everything she wanted within the limits of possibility, and that everyone and everything should give way before her. Because of her one great deprivation, she must not be allowed to suffer any lesser one. And Rose being so gay and quick and bright and good-humored, such an attitude on the part of her parents and teachers as well as her friends and schoolmates was the more natural and to be expected. No one in either village had even thought of questioning the wisdom of such procedure with the exception of Humphrey Meadowcroft. He wasn’t sure that it was quite wholesome for the girl. It appeared to him as if they were rather overdoing it. But being conscious of slight prejudice on his own part towards Rose, he had never spoken of the matter to anyone, not even to Mr. Appleton, with whom he would naturally have discussed it.
Such being the situation, it was not strange that Rose’s closest friend, Betty Pogany, who thought of little else than Rose and Rose’s interests, who was, perhaps, in certain ways more concerned for her than even the girl’s mother, should have believed that Rose’s interests had right of way before anything else whatever. As a consequence of this, though ordinarily the most biddable and docile of maidens, when Betty was working in behalfof Rose she bore herself unconsciously as if she had royal prerogative of action. And now, when it was to her mind a question of the restoration of Rose’s sight, Betty was, unawares, ready to become an anarchist with regard to ordinary duties and claims.
School opened again on the Monday following the secret visit to Millville. Already Betty had made her plans for the first Wednesday visit to Dr. Vandegrift, and had in mind tentative plans for the remaining Wednesdays of the winter term. It being now absolutely imperative for Rose and herself to walk back and forth upon every possible occasion, they could not risk losing the privilege on any account—which meant that they must always be at home by four o’clock. That would add to the difficulty of the secret weekly visit to Millville. They could take the two o’clock train from Paulding, but there was no returning train that would help them. The treatment over, they would have to walk the four miles from Millville to South Paulding at top speed in order to get home at four.
School did not close until half-past two, but in the preceding term the last forty minutes of every day excepting Friday had been a study period for the freshmen. Betty took it for granted that the same schedule would prevail this term, and felt that it would be a simple manner to get away early on Wednesdays. Wherefore, she was greatly disappointed to learn that the class in Latin Composition, which the fourth-year pupils were to begin this term, was to meet once a week on Wednesdays at the last period. Betty sighed at the complication. She liked Latin, and she was very sorry to miss this course, which had only the one recitation. Mr.Meadowcroft would be disappointed, too,—but no, he mustn’t know. And after all what was Latin Composition, what was anything in the world in comparison with the restoration of Rose’s sight? Betty felt that she could cheerfully give up school itself for the six months if it were required.
On Wednesday morning at recess, she went to Mr. Appleton and asked if she and Rose might be excused at the close of the one o’clock recitation.
“Let me see. The last period is a study hour, is it not?” he asked kindly.
“Well, no, Mr. Appleton, it isn’t,” Betty returned, coloring, for she had been willing to let him infer that such was the fact. “But—this is very important. I want to take Rose somewhere.”
The school-master would not have excused any other pupils in those circumstances. But he had so much sympathy for Rose and such confidence in Betty, who was as remarkable, as nearly perfect, in her conduct as in her lessons, that he yielded at once. He had no doubt whatever that the occasion was important and concerned Rose’s welfare.
“But it is not usual, you know, Miss Pogany,” he added, smiling. “As a matter of fact it is against the rules to be excused from school when it involves missing a lesson unless the pupil brings a written request from parent or guardian. So please remember to come armed with that if you wish to ask again.”
That was rather disconcerting with all the other Wednesdays stretching ahead. But for the nonce, Betty disregarded it. For to-day they were safe. And much as both Betty and Rose enjoyed school, it added somethingto the excitement of their adventure to leave the building just as the rest of their class was filing into the recitation room.
They seemed hardly to be on the train before they were off again. It was so short a ride, and money was so imperative, that Betty grudged the five cents apiece for their tickets. She had hardly taken out the doctor’s card to find the number on Parrot Street and returned it to her pocket, when the conductor shouted “Millville!” in the condescending manner in which she was to learn he always said it. It was a through train and express a great part of the distance it ran. Scarcely anyone ever got off at Millville, and yet something about the road forced every northbound train to stop there.
The main street had seemed last week untidy almost to the limit of possibility; but Parrot Street, which was really an alley, was as much worse as Main Street was worse than the wide, lovely avenue which was the principal street of South Paulding. Betty wondered if even the daring Rose wouldn’t have felt appalled had she been able to see it. But Rose only said “Quelque smell!” in her funny way and danced lightly over the uneven ridges of frozen mire.
The building whose sagging door bore traces of the number they sought was ramshackle indeed; the stairs were dark, rickety and dirty, and the corridor of the second story unventilated and ill-smelling. But they came to a clean-looking door with light shining through opaque glass, and though it had no designation on it, Betty was right in taking it for Dr. Vandegrift’s office. Within, it was neat and not unattractive. The doctor greeted them warmly like old friends.
“It cheers my heart to see such bright, happy faces,” he declared. “It does me good. It braces and strengthens me to combat the obloquy which pursues me. And the best of it is that I have the assurance of making it possible for Miss Rose to look upon Miss Betty’s yet happier face in the course of a few months.”
He moved out the chair upholstered in red plush which he had had at the Eagle Hotel, and gently helped Rose into it.
“Since I last saw you, young ladies. I have been reading certain eminent Hungarian authorities on the eye,” he went on, “and meditating on their conclusions, which are similar to my own, though in inventing my Galvano Eye-Cup, I have advanced a step—a long step—beyond them. I will only say what you have probably already inferred, that my confidence is unbounded.”
He wheeled the chair about, moved a small stand close to it and placed on it a heavy wooden box which he explained was his battery. Drawing down the blinds, he put a handle connected by wires with the box into each of the girl’s hands.
“Don’t grasp them. Hold them gently until I take them from you,” he bade her. Then he held a small glass cup to one of her eyes until it fastened itself there by suction. Ten minutes passed in absolute silence. During this period, Dr. Vandegrift kept his eyes constantly upon his patient, flash-light in hand and face very grave. Ever and anon he adjusted a glass over his eye and peered into Rose’s free eye. Rose, despite the warning, clutched the handles as for dear life. Betty’s heart throbbed wildly.
At the end of ten minutes, Dr. Vandegrift removedthe cup, took away the handles, and bade Rose sit erect for a minute. Then he applied the cup to the other eye, gave her the handles, in reversed order, he explained, and repeated the process. Ten minutes later, he removed the apparatus, raised the blinds and announced that that was all for this time.
Betty handed him three dollars, then helped Rose into her scarlet reefer jacket and handed her her tam-o’-shanter.
“Thank you,” he said absently, adding: “Miss Rose responds to the treatment wonderfully—marvelously. I am the more glad to be able to tell you this because I discovered to-day after taking the cup from the right eye and throwing a violet ray upon the retina, that you came only just in the nick of time. Miss Rose’s eyes were just ready to deteriorate. The left one had, in fact, begun. I won’t say that if you had not come until a week later, it would have been doubtful; but two weeks hence, I shouldn’t have dared make any promises. Three weeks later I could only have sent you home. Treatment would have been wasted. Shall I look for you at the same time next week?”
“Yes indeed, sir,” responded Betty solemnly, scarcely able to contemplate what might have been.
“I wonder if you would mind, Dr. Vandegrift,” she added hesitatingly, “my saying to Mr. Appleton——”
“My dear Miss Betty, if you are going to talk that way this interview will be the last,” he interrupted very severely. “You gave me your word.”
“I know. But—he’s the school-master,” said Betty meekly.
“I thought you understood,” he said with sadness that was almost bitter.
“O, I do!” cried Betty. “Of course I won’t. And I shouldn’t have asked you that. I won’t again, I promise you. It’s nothing, of course. And when I think that Rose will be cured——”
He smiled kindly.
“Don’t come any later, please,” he said as he opened the door, “for every minute of my time is taken and I must be through with you ten minutes before the next patient arrives so that I may re-charge the battery. A case of blindness, you may not be aware, consumes as much fluid as would otherwise be used in a day.”
And smiling blandly, he bowed them out.