"It's always true. Where are you going?" as Patty started for the door.
"I am going," said Patty, "to ask Mrs. Richards to give me a new
room-mate: one who will understand and appreciate me, and sympathize
with my afflictions."
Patty walked gloomily down the corridor, lost in meditation. Her way led
past the door of the doctor's office, which was standing invitingly
open. Three or four girls were sitting around the room, laughing and
talking and waiting their turns. Patty glanced in, and a radiant smile
suddenly lightened her face, but it was instantly replaced by a look of
settled sadness. She walked in and dropped into an arm-chair with a
sigh.
"What's the matter, Patty? You look as if you had melancholia."
Patty smiled apathetically. "Not quite so bad as that," she murmured,
and leaned back and closed her eyes.
[Illustration: What's the matter, Patty?]
"Next," said the doctor from the doorway; but as she caught sight of
Patty she walked over and shook her arm. "Is this Patty Wyatt? What is
the matter with you, child?"
Patty opened her eyes with a start. "Nothing," she said; "I'm just a
little tired."
"Come in here with me."
"It's not my turn," objected Patty.
"That makes no difference," returned the doctor.
Patty dropped limply into the consulting-chair.
"Let me see your tongue. Um-m--isn't coated very much. Your pulse seems
regular, though possibly a trifle feverish. Have you been working hard?"
"I don't think I've been working any harder than usual," said Patty,
truthfully.
"Sitting up late nights?"
Patty considered. "I was up rather late twice last week," she confessed.
"If you girls persist in studying until all hours of the night, I
don't know what we doctors can do."
Patty did not think it necessary to explain that it was a Welsh-rabbit
party on each occasion, so she merely sighed and looked out of the
window.
"Is your appetite good?"
"Yes," said Patty, in a tone which belied the words; "it seems to be
very good."
"Um-m," said the doctor.
"I'm just a little tired," pursued Patty, "but I think I shall be all
right as soon as I get a chance to rest. Perhaps I need a tonic," she
suggested.
"You'd better stay out of classes for a day or two and get thoroughly
rested."
"Oh, no," said Patty, in evident perturbation. "Our room is so full of
girls all the time that it's really more restful to go to classes; and,
besides, I can't stay out just now."
"Why not?" demanded the doctor, suspiciously.
"Well," said Patty, a trifle reluctantly, "I have a good deal to do.
I've got to cram for an examination, and--"
The word "cram" was to the doctor as a red rag to a bull. "Nonsense!"
she ejaculated. "I know what I shall do with you. You are going right
over to the infirmary for a few days--"
"Oh, doctor!" Patty pleaded, with tears in her eyes, "there's _truly_
nothing the matter with me, and I've _got_ to take that examination."
"What examination is it?"
"Old English--Miss Skelling."
"I will see Miss Skelling myself," said the doctor, "and explain that
you cannot take the examination until you come out. And now," she added,
making a note of Patty's case, "I will have you put in the convalescent
ward, and we will try the rest cure for a few days, and feed you up on
chicken-broth and egg-nog, and see if we can get that appetite back."
"Thank you," said Patty, with the resigned air of one who has given up
struggling against the inevitable.
"I like to see you take an interest in your work," added the doctor,
kindly; "but you must always remember, my dear, that health is the first
consideration."
Patty returned to the study and executed an impromptu dance in the
middle of the floor.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Priscilla. "Are you crazy?"
"No," said Patty; "only ill." And she went into her bedroom and began
slinging things into a dress-suit case.
Priscilla stood in the doorway and watched her in amazement. "Are you
going to New York?" she asked.
"No," said Patty; "to the infirmary."
"Patty Wyatt, you're a wretched little hypocrite!"
"Not at all," said Patty, cheerfully. "I didn't ask to go, but the
doctor simply insisted. I told her I had an examination, but she said it
didn't make any difference; health must be the first consideration."
"What's in that bottle?" demanded Priscilla.
"That's for my appetite," said Patty, with a grin; "the doctor hopes to
improve it. I didn't like to discourage her, but I don't much believe
she can." She dropped an Old English grammar and a copy of "Beowulf"
into her suit-case.
"They won't let you study," said Priscilla.
"I shall not ask them," said Patty. "Good-by. Tell the girls to drop in
occasionally and see me in my incarceration. Visiting hour from five to
six." She stuck her head in again. "If any one wants to send violets, I
think they might cheer me up."
* * * * *
THE next afternoon Georgie and Priscilla presented themselves at the
infirmary, and were met at the door by the austere figure of the head
nurse. "I will see if Miss Wyatt is awake," she said dubiously, "but I
am afraid you will excite her; she's to be kept very quiet."
"Oh, no; we'll do her good," remonstrated Georgie; and the two girls
tiptoed in after the nurse.
The convalescent ward was a large, airy room, furnished in green and
white, with four or five beds, each surrounded with brass poles and
curtains. Patty was lying in one of the corner beds near a window,
propped up on pillows, with her hair tumbled about her face, and a table
beside her covered with flowers and glasses of medicine. This elaborate
paraphernalia of sickness created a momentary illusion in the minds of
the visitors. Priscilla ran to the bedside and dropped on her knees
beside her invalid room-mate.
"Patty dear," she said anxiously, "how do you feel?"
A seraphic smile spread over Patty's face. "I've been able to take a
little nourishment to-day," she said.
"Patty, you're a scandalous humbug! Who gave you those violets? 'With
love, from Lady Clara Vere de Vere'--that blessed freshman!--and you've
borrowed every drop of alcohol the poor child ever thought of owning.
And whom are those roses from? Miss Skelling! Patty, you ought to be
ashamed."
Patty had the grace to blush slightly. "I was a trifle embarrassed," she
admitted; "but when I reflected upon how sorry she would have been to
find out how little I knew, and how glad she will be to find out how
much I know, my conscience was appeased."
"Have you been studying?" asked Georgie.
"Studying!" Patty lifted up the corner of her pillow and exhibited a
blue book. "Two days more of this, and I shall be the chief authority in
America on Anglo-Saxon roots."
"How do you manage it?"
"Oh," said Patty, "when the rest-hour begins I lie down and shut my
eyes, and they tiptoe over and look at me, and whisper, 'She's asleep,'
and softly draw the curtains around the bed; and I get out the book and
put in two solid hours of irregular verbs, and am still sleeping when
they come to look at me. They're perfectly astonished at the amount I
sleep. I heard the nurse telling the doctor that she didn't believe I'd
had any sleep for a month. And the worst of it is," she added, "that I
_am_ tired, whether you believe it or not, and I should just love to
stay over here and sleep all day if I weren't so beastly conscientious
about that old grammar."
"Poor Patty!" laughed Georgie. "She will be imposing on herself next, as
well as on the whole college."
Friday morning Patty returned to the world.
"How's Old English?" inquired Priscilla.
"Very well, thank you. It was something of a cram, but I think I know
that grammar by heart, from the preface to the index."
"You're back in all your other work. Do you think it paid?"
"That remains to be seen," laughed Patty.
She knocked on Miss Skelling's door, and, after the first polite
greetings, stated her errand: "I should like, if it is convenient for
you, to take the examination I missed."
"Do you feel able to take it to-day?"
"I feel much better able to take it to-day than I did on Tuesday."
Miss Skelling smiled kindly. "You have done very good work in Old
English this semester, Miss Wyatt, and I should not ask you to take the
examination at all if I thought it would be fair to the rest of the
class."
"Fair to the rest of the class?" Patty looked a trifle blank; she had
not considered this aspect of the question, and a slow red flush crept
over her face. She hesitated a moment, and rose uncertainly. "When it
comes to that, Miss Skelling," she confessed, "I'm afraid it wouldn't be
quite fair to the rest of the class for me to take it."
Miss Skelling did not understand. "But, Miss Wyatt," she expostulated in
a puzzled tone, "it was not difficult. I am sure you could pass."
Patty smiled. "I am sure I could, Miss Skelling. I don't believe you
could ask me a question that I couldn't answer. But the point is that
it's all learned since Tuesday. The doctor was laboring under a little
delusion--very natural under the circumstances--when she sent me to the
infirmary, and I spent my time there studying."
"But, Miss Wyatt, this is very unusual. I shall not know how to mark
you," Miss Skelling murmured in some distress.
"Oh, mark me zero," said Patty, cheerfully. "It doesn't matter in the
least--I know such a lot that I'll get through on the finals. Good-by;
I'm sorry to have troubled you." And she closed the door and turned
thoughtfully homeward.
"Did it pay?" asked Priscilla.
Patty laughed and murmured softly:
"'The King of France rode up the hill with full ten thousand men;
The King of France did gain the top, and then rode down again.'"
"What are you talking about?" demanded Priscilla.
"Old English," said Patty, as she sat down at her desk and commenced on
the three days' work she had missed.