She started again on contemptuous ways, but was stopped by the little man.
"Get down out o' that chair!" he commanded. "My time is money!"
Lize flushed with surprise and anger, but obeyed, and Lee Virginia,
secretly delighted with the physician's imperative manner, led the way
into the lodging-house. "I'll look after the cash, mother," she said.
"Don't worry."
"I'm not worryin'," she replied; "but what does that little whelp mean by
talking to me like that? I'll swat him one if he isn't careful!"
"It's his way. Please don't anger him. You need his help."
The doctor interfered. "Now, madam, strip, and let's see what's the matter
with you," whereupon he laid off his coat, and opened his box of
instruments.
Lee fled, and Redfield, who had remained standing beside the counter,
could not repress a smile. "She's caught a tartar this time. He's a little
tiger, isn't he? I had prepared him for war, but I didn't expect him to
fly at her that way."
"Poor mother! how dreadfully ill she looks to-day. I hope the doctor will
order her to rest."
"But will she obey? I've argued that with her. She keeps saying she will,
but she won't."
It was nearly one, but the customers were coming in, and the girl, laying
aside her hat and veil, took her seat at the cash-register, while Redfield
went out to put his machine in order for the return trip. She realized
that she was now at close-hand grapple with life. For the most part she
had been able, up to this time, to keep in the background, and to avoid
the eyes of the rough men who came and went before her mother's seat. But
now she was not merely exposed to their bold glances; she was in a
position where each man could make excuse to stop and demand a word what
time his change was being counted.
Her glowing cheeks, her pretty dress, made her a shining mark, and the men
began at once to improve their opportunity by asking, "Where's Lize?" And
this embarrassed her, for the reason that she did not care to go into the
cause of her mother's temporary absence, and, perceiving her confusion,
one of them passed to coarse compliment. "There's nothing the matter with
you," he said, with a leer. Others, though coarse, were kindly in their
familiarity, and Sifton, with gentle face, remained to help her bear the
jests of the more uncouth and indelicate of her admirers.
Perceiving her nervousness, Neill Ballard raised loud outcry over a
mistake she made in returning change, and this so confused and angered her
that her eyes misted with tears, and she blundered sadly with the next
customer. His delight in her discomfiture, his words, his grin became
unendurable, and in a flush of rage and despair she sprang to her feet and
left them to make triumphant exit. "I got her rattled!" he roared, as he
went out. "She'll remember me."
The diners were all smiling, and Gregg took a malicious satisfaction in
her defeat. She had held herself haughtily apart from him, and he was glad
to see her humbled.
Leaving her place behind the counter, she walked through the room with
uplifted head and burning eyes, her heart filled with bitterness and fire.
She hated the whole town, the whole State, at the moment. Were these "the
chivalrous short-grass knights" she had heard so much about? These the
large-souled "Western founders of empire"? At the moment she was in the
belief that all the heroes of her childhood had been of the stamp of Neill
Ballard--selfish, lustful, and cruel.
In the hall her pride, her sense of duty, came back to her, and she halted
her fleeing feet. "I will not be beaten!" she declared, and her lips
straightened. "I will not let these dreadful creatures make a fool of me
in that way!"
Thereupon she turned and went back, pale now, but resolved to prove
herself the mistress of the situation. Fortunately Redfield had returned,
and his serene presence helped her to recover complete control of herself.
She remained coldly blank to every compliment, and by this means she
subdued them. "Why doesn't the doctor return for his dinner?" she asked,
after the room had cleared. The desire to know her mother's real condition
at last quite subordinated her own besetments. To some of the older men
whom she knew to be neighbors and friends she gladly explained the
situation, and their sympathy did something to restore her faith in
humankind. Nevertheless, this hour of unprotected intercourse with the
citizens of the town was disturbing, humiliating, and embittering.
* * * * *
The doctor appearing suddenly in the door beckoned to her, and, leaving
her place, she crossed to where he stood. "Your mother needs you," he
said, curtly. "Go to her, and keep her quiet for an hour or two if you
can."
"What is the matter, doctor?"
"I can't tell you precisely, but you must get her on a diet and keep her
there. I will write out some lists for you after my luncheon."
Lee found her mother sitting in such dejection as she had never known her
to display, though she fired up sufficiently to say: "That cussed little
thimble-rigger has been throwing a great big scare into me. He says I've
got to get out-doors, live on raw meat and weak tea, and walk five miles a
day. That's what he says!" she added, in renewed astonishment at the man's
audacity. "Who's at the cash?"
"Mr. Redfield," replied Lee. "I'll go right back."
"No you won't, I'm no dead horse yet." She struggled to her feet and
started for the cash-register. "I won't let no little Omaha doughgie like
that put me out o' business."
Despite all warnings, she walked out into the dining-room and took her
accustomed seat with set and stern face, while her daughter went to the
table where the doctor sat, and explained her inability to manage her
mother.
"That's _your_ problem," he replied, coolly. Then rapidly, succinctly, and
clearly he went over the case, and laid out a course of treatment. Out of
it all Lee deduced that her mother was very ill indeed, though not in
danger of sudden death.
"She's on the chute," said Fessenden, "and everything depends upon her own
action whether she takes the plunge this winter or twenty years from now.
She's a strong woman--or has been--but she has presumed upon her strength.
She used to live out-of-doors, she tells me, during all her early life,
and now, shut in by these walls, working sixteen hours a day, she is
killing herself. Get her out if you can, and cut out stimulants."
As he rose and approached the counter, Lize shoved a couple of gold pieces
across the board. "That wipes you off my map," she grimly declared. "I
hope you enjoyed your ride."
"It's up to you, madam," he replied, pocketing the gold. "Good-day!"
Lee followed him out to the car, eager to secure all she could of his
wisdom. He repeated his instructions. "Medicine can't help her much," he
said, "but diet can do a great deal. Get her out of that rut she's in.
Good-bye."
"I'll be down again in a day or two!" called Redfield.
The machine began to purr and spit and the wheels to spin, and Lee
Virginia was left to face her mother's obstinate resistance alone. She
felt suddenly very desolate, very weak, and very poor. "What if mother
should die?" she asked herself.
Gregg was standing before the counter talking with Lize as Lee returned,
and he said, with a broad smile: "I've just been saying I'd take this
hotel off your mother's hands provided you went with it."
In the mouths of some men these words would have been harmless enough, but
coming from the tongue of one whose life could only be obscurely hinted at
the jest was an insult. The girl shuddered with repulsion, and Lize spoke
out:
"Now see here, Bullfrog, I'm dead on the hoof and all that, but neither
you nor any other citizen like you can be funny with my girl. She's not
for you. Now that's final! She ain't your kind."
Gregg's smile died into a gray, set smirk, and his eyes took on a steely
glint. He knew when the naked, unadorned truth was spoken to him. Words
came slowly to his lips, but he said: "You'll be glad to come to me for
help some day--both of you."
"Oh, get along! You don't hold no mortgage on me," retorted Lize,
contemptuously, and turned to Lee. "I'm hungry. Where's that grub chart o'
mine?"
Lee brought the doctor's page of notes and read it through, while her
mother snorted at intervals: "Hah! dry toast, weak tea, no coffee, no
alcohol. Huh! I might as well starve! Eggs--fish--milk! Why didn't he say
boiled live lobsters and champagne? I tell you right now, I'm not going to
go into that kind of a game. If I die I'm going to die eating what I blame
please."
The struggle had begun. With desperate courage Lee fought, standing
squarely in the rut of her mother's daily habit. "You must not hive up
here any longer," she insisted; "you must get out and walk and ride. I can
take care of the house--at least, till we can sell it."
It was like breaking the pride of an athlete, but little by little she
forced upon her mother a realization of her true condition, and at last
Lize consented to offer the business for sale. Then she wept (for the
first time in years), and the sight moved her daughter much as the sobs of
a strong man would have done.
She longed for the presence of Ross Cavanagh at this moment, when all her
little world seemed tumbling into ruin; and almost in answer to her
wordless prayer came a messenger from the little telephone office: "Some
one wants to talk to you."
She answered this call hurriedly, thinking at first that it must be Mrs.
Redfield. The booth was in the little sitting-room of a private cottage,
and the mistress of the place, a shrewd little woman with inquisitive
eyes, said: "Sounds to me like Ross Cavanagh's voice."
Lee was thankful for the booth's privacy, for her cheeks flamed up at this
remark; and when she took up the receiver her heart was beating so loud it
seemed as if the person at the other end of the wire must hear it. "Who is
it, please?" she asked, with breathless intensity.
A man's voice came back over the wire so clear, so distinct, so intimate,
it seemed as if he were speaking into her ear. "It is I, Ross Cavanagh. I
want to ask how your mother is?"
"She is terribly disheartened by what the doctor has said, but she is in
no immediate danger."
He perceived her agitation, and was instantly sympathetic. "Can I be of
use--do you need me? If you do, I'll come down."
"Where are you?"
"I am at the sawmill--the nearest telephone station."
"How far away are you?"
"About thirty miles."
"Oh!" She expressed in this little sound her disappointment, and as it
trembled over the wire he spoke quickly: "Please tell me! Do you want me
to come down? Never mind the distance--I can ride it in a few hours."
She was tempted, but bravely said: "No; I'd like to see you, of course,
but the doctor said mother was in no danger. You must not come on our
account."
He felt the wonder of the moment's intercourse over the wilderness steeps,
and said so. "You can't imagine how strangely sweet and civilized your
voice sounds to me here in this savage place. It makes me hope that some
day you and Mrs. Redfield will come up and visit me in person."
"I should like to come."
"Perhaps it would do your mother good to camp for a while. Can't you
persuade her to do so?"
"I'm trying to do that--I mean, to stop work; but she says, 'What can we
do to earn a living?'"
"If nothing happens I hope to spend an hour or two at the Forks next
Sunday. I hope to find your mother better."
Their words were of this unemotional sort, but in their voices something
subtler than the electrical current vibrated. He called to her in wordless
fashion and she answered in the same mysterious code, and when she said
"Good-bye" and hung up the receiver her world went suddenly gray and
commonplace, as if a ray of special sunlight had been withdrawn.