SARAH LOSES A MENAGERIE
"You may burn them up or give them away or sell them!" Rosemary
cried. "I never want to see a pair of high-heeled shoes again as
long as I live. I despise them!"
The doctor picked up the offending little shoes and eyed them
critically.
"Wait," said Rosemary as he seemed about to speak. "I have something
to tell you, Hugh. I've been as bad as I could be, and I've done
everything you didn't like. But you'll be glad, because I never want
to see Nina Edmonds again. I never want any one to mention her name
to me."
Her voice was hard and unnatural.
"Hadn't you better sit down, dear?" Doctor Hugh suggested. "I'm
sorry if you and Nina have quarreled."
"Oh, we haven't quarreled," said Rosemary bitterly. "I can't tell
you about it, Hugh, but she isn't the kind of girl I thought she
was. And I did like her so! I won't cry," she added doggedly. "I
haven't told you the worst yet. Hugh, you thought I persuaded Aunt
Trudy to buy me the pumps, but she didn't know anything about it; I
had them charged on Nina's account at the Quality shoe store. And I
owe Nina $12.98 this minute and I have to pay her right away. I
can't owe it to her another day. Will you lend me the money? I don't
care what you do to me, or how you punish me, but don't make me stay
in debt. I can't stand it."
Doctor Hugh put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He
counted out several bills and gave them to Rosemary.
"Don't you want to tell me about it, dear?" he said quietly. "I can
not bear to see you hurt and not to know the reason. Perhaps I can
set it right for you."
Rosemary shook her head.
"Nobody can help," she said despondently. "There's nothing to help."
Her lips quivered. "I thought Nina was different," she said, and
then the tears overflowed.
The doctor had seen Rosemary cry before, but never like this. As he
held her in his arms and she sobbed out the hurt and humiliation of
the afternoon against his shoulder, he wondered what had happened
to shake her so. He did not know that she had had her first
experience with disloyalty or that her first broken friendship was
teaching her a hard lesson. By and by the passion of weeping grew
quieter and Rosemary fumbled for her handkerchief.
"I didn't know I was going to be so silly," she said, sitting up and
trying to smile as the doctor tucked his own clean handkerchief into
her hand.
"You won't tell me what is troubling you?" he said persuasively.
"I can't, Hugh," Rosemary answered, her tear drenched eyes meeting
his gaze squarely. "I can't talk about it, not even to you."
"All right, dear, if that's the way you feel," he said instantly.
"Only remember, any time you want to confide, I'm always ready.
Don't be afraid of me, Rosemary; that is one thing I can not stand.
If I thought any of you girls were afraid to come to me and tell me
your troubles--"
Rosemary threw her arms around his neck.
"I'm not afraid of you, I'm only ashamed of myself," she whispered.
"And I love you more than any one in the world, next to Mother!"
The doctor heard of the shoe incident the next morning, indeed the
story was known about Eastshore within a few hours, and he was able
to piece together from what he heard a fair understanding of Nina
Edmonds' part in the incident. He succeeded in impressing on Sarah
and Shirley, and even Winnie and Aunt Trudy, that they were not to
mention Nina's name, or anything they might hear about that
unfortunate afternoon, to Rosemary, on pain of his severest
displeasure. Nina nodded, rather shamefacedly, to Rosemary in school
the next Monday morning and Rosemary spoke pleasantly; but she never
voluntarily sought the society of the other girl again and there was
something about her that effectually discouraged Nina from
attempting any overtures.
A week or two later, Winnie walked into Doctor Hugh's office one
night a few minutes before ten o'clock, ostensibly to bring him a
glass of milk and a sponge cake before he went to bed.
"Out with it, Winnie," he said good-naturedly. "I can see that you
are fairly bristling with the necessity of making an important
communication."
"It's Sarah, then," announced Winnie, putting down the glass of
milk. "Something has got to be done about her, Hughie."
"Sarah?" inquired the doctor meditatively. "Why I thought she was
conducting herself in an exemplary manner these last few weeks."
Winnie sniffed.
"I'm always the one that has to tell you," she complained. "I'm
after asking Miss Trudy these three nights running to speak to you,
but does she? She does not. She speaks to Sarah who minds her about
as well as the wind does. And Rosemary won't be doing her duty,
either; she says 'twould be telling tales and she's got Shirley
around to the same way of thinking."
"A conspiracy, eh?" smiled Doctor Hugh.
"Well, Winnie, what should I know that I don't know about my small
sister Sarah?"
Winnie was not to be hurried. She dearly loved a chat with her idol,
the doctor, and she had the born story-teller's art of prolonging
the climax.
"I'm not one to be going out of my way to find something to babble,"
she declared now. "There's plenty of things goes on I could be
running to you with every day in the week, did I so mind; but I
believe in letting folks have their own heads, as long as they don't
go too far."
The doctor sampled the cake appreciatively.
"Sarah, I take it, has gone too far?" he suggested.
"I don't know as you'd call it that," said Winnie with a faint
suspicion of sarcasm. "I may be too finicky and if I am, may I be
forgiven for troubling you. But when it comes to sleeping in the
same room with six sore-eyed kittens and in the same bed with a
mangy street dog, I think something should be done about it. 'Tisn't
Christian-like."
"Do you mean to tell me Sarah has got a mess like that up in her
room?" demanded Doctor Hugh.
"She has that," said Winnie firmly. "That and worse. She has rabbits
in her clothes closet and this morning I had to carry out two dead
chickens. She lugs them all up every night to keep 'em warm, she
says."
"Is everyone in the house crazy?" asked the bewildered doctor.
"What's the matter with you, Winnie? Ordinarily you can make the
world take orders from you--couldn't you put a stop to this?"
"I've argued and I've scolded and I've threatened to chloroform
every animal on the place," said Winnie impressively, "but Sarah is
like cement. Where the Willis will is going to lead her, I'm sure I
don't know; but she's too much for me."
"Nonsense!" the doctor pushed back his chair sharply. "At least you
could have come to me and told me the first night she tried to keep
an animal in her room."
"I'm as weak as the rest of 'em," admitted Winnie. "Miss Trudy cried
and Shirley grumbled because she had to go in and sleep with
Rosemary; but none of us liked to say a word to you. I don't suppose
I'd be after telling you now if I wasn't afraid Sarah would catch
something from that dog she brought home to-night."
"I'll go up and read the riot act to her, even if it is late," said
Doctor Hugh, frowning. "Such a state of affairs is beyond belief.
Shirley is sleeping with Rosemary, you say, and Sarah has the
menagerie in the bed with her?"
"Well, she has the dog--I saw him under the blanket. But you're not
going to bother her to-night, are you?" asked Winnie anxiously.
"Do you suppose I'm going to have her sleeping with a dog that came
from Heaven alone knows where?" was the impatient answer. "If I can
get the animals out of her room without waking her, well and good;
but in any case, out they come."
Sarah woke up the moment the light was switched on. So did the
touseled little yellow dog who thrust his head out from under the
covers, close to Sarah's face, and barked sharply at the tall figure
standing in the center of the room. The rabbits could be heard
scampering about behind the closet door and the kittens set up a
hungry mewing from their basket under the bed. A faint scratching
came from beneath the inverted waste-basket where a dejected-looking
rooster drooped in lonely melancholy.
"Go away!" said Sarah.
"Give me that dog, Sarah," said Doctor Hugh sternly, hoping that he
would not laugh. "What do you mean by this kind of performance?"
"He's a nice dog and he hasn't any home, he followed me all the way
from the grocery store," said Sarah, her dark eyes regarding her
brother suspiciously. "Leave him alone."
For answer the doctor, with a quick movement, lifted the dog clear
of the bed clothes.
"You'll hurt him!" cried Sarah in anguish. "You don't know how to be
nice to animals. Give him back to me, Hugh."
"Look here, Sarah, this is no time for argument," said Doctor Hugh
crisply. "It is out of the question for you to sleep with your
barnyard friends. Everyone of them must go down cellar for the rest
of the night and we'll talk about what is to be done with them in
the morning."
Sarah wept and protested and even tried to fight for her pets, but
Winnie and the doctor were deaf to her pleas. Between them, they
carried down every forlorn animal--Sarah's tastes ran to the lame
and the halt and the blind,--and then Doctor Hugh opened the window
wide (Sarah had insisted on keeping both windows closed lest a draft
strike the sick kittens), kissed the back of his small sister's
head, for she persistently refused to turn her face toward him, and
snapped off the light, leaving Sarah to cry herself to sleep.
Rosemary and Shirley, in the next room, had slept peacefully through
the racket.
Unfortunately the next morning a call came for the doctor before
eight o'clock and snatching a hasty breakfast, he was out of the
house before the girls came down. He had no opportunity for the talk
with Sarah that day for although he came home to lunch, she was, of
course in school, and he did not get home in time for dinner. In
fact, it was nearly nine o'clock before his car rolled into the
drive.
Aunt Trudy and Rosemary, Winnie told him, had gone to the movies as
a Friday night treat, and Sarah and Shirley had gone to bed promptly
at eight o'clock.
"I was setting bread, and didn't see 'em go," Winnie added
significantly.
Doctor Hugh went upstairs to the third floor. A light shone under
Sarah's door. He knocked, then tried the knob. It was locked.
"Open the door, Sarah," he said quietly.
"Go away!" quavered Sarah, tears in her voice.
Doctor Hugh remembered the communicating door and strode through
Rosemary's room. Shirley was fast asleep in her older sister's bed.
Sarah had not thought to fasten the door between the rooms and she
looked up startled, as her brother came in. She had not undressed,
and she sat on the floor, the kittens in her lap. The dog and the
rabbits and the rooster were all back in their places.
"This settles it!" said the doctor adamantly. "There's only one way
to deal with you, Sarah, and that is to come down like a ton of
bricks. You can't keep any pets for two months--that's final."
"Any more pets?" suggested Sarah.
"I said any pets," was the reply. "If you can find homes for these,
well and good; if you can't, I'll try to dispose of them for you.
But to-morrow morning, they go away. And now you'll have to help me
get them down cellar."
When Sarah finally understood that she was to be deprived of all her
pets at once, she wept miserably. No amount of tears or storming or
wheedling or pleading, however, could alter Doctor Hugh's decision.
Even Winnie suggested that one kitten be kept, but to no avail.
"Sarah must learn she can not do as she pleases and escape the
consequences," he said to Rosemary, who came to him on Sarah's
behalf. "Half way measures don't go with her, I find, so I've had to
be drastic. I'm sorry, too, Rosemary, but I believe I am making the
future easier for one strong-willed little girl."
He found homes among his farm patients for all the animals and saw
to it that Sarah went with him to carry the pets to their new
abodes. She felt much better when she saw that they were to be well
cared for, but it was a long time before she would go near the empty
rabbit hutch in the side yard. Jack, who discovered that she avoided
it, chopped it up at last for kindling wood for Winnie and Sarah was
silently grateful. She missed her pets inexpressibly, but the rest
of the household, it must be confessed, enjoyed their absence
thoroughly. Sarah and her animals had absorbed the foreground for
many hectic weeks.