IT was hard to wait, but Betty decided to say nothing to Rose until
next day. She merely asked her to spend the following afternoon with
her, begging her to come early because Aunt Sarah was away and she
would be alone as soon as her father returned to the shop.
The moment the two girls were alone, Betty divulged the secret. Rose
was delighted and shared Betty’s confidence, but she was the less
enthusiastic of the two. As she didn’t, in truth, suffer nearly so
keenly because of her blindness as Betty suffered for her, so release
from it did not seem so wildly thrilling a possibility as it seemed to
the other.
They went by a roundabout way to the station, took the Paulding train,
and waited there for the train for the north which stopped at Millville.
Betty had never been in the village street before. It was shockingly
dirty as well as ugly, and the girl felt it a sad pity that it should
be the first sight that would greet Rose after her long sitting in
darkness. The Eagle Hotel, too, would have seemed extremely dingy
elsewhere, though here it gained something from the contrast with
the surrounding buildings; and its parlor though not plural, as the
advertisement indicated, nor spacious, was fairly tidy and too faded
and neutral to be offensive. Moreover, Dr. Vandegrift himself fell
far short of the glamor of the newspaper portrait. But Betty felt no
disappointment. His glasses with the wide black ribbon connected, and
his pointed beard made him the ideal specialist to her, and though she
knew Tommy would be disappointed in regard to the medals, she felt
it more dignified of the doctor not to wear them. And Rose declared
afterwards that she knew from the sound of his voice just how wonderful
he was.
Rose was extremely easy in her movements, and when Betty explained that
her friend was blind, the doctor was almost discourteous. As a matter
of fact, he believed these well-dressed, well-bred strangers, who were
obviously not of Millville, were trying to play a trick upon him.
Indeed, Betty’s height and the direct gaze of the smaller girl led him
to suspect that they acted as detectives. Then he looked sharply at the
tall lady and saw that she was only a child, with a child’s innocent
honesty in every line of her fair face, and he knew that she spoke the
truth--that it wasn’t in her to do otherwise. And he wasn’t surprised
when, with a quick, unexpected motion, he brought his hand so close to
the little girl’s eyes that it almost grazed the lashes, she did not
flinch. His tone changed immediately to that of utter suavity, as he
put a few questions--professional-sounding questions.
Then he took them into a small inner room which was darkened, placed
Rose in a big chair that made her feel as if she were going to have
a tooth pulled, and putting an extra glass over one eye, flashed a
light into hers and peered into them in turn. As he did so, he asked a
great many questions as to the condition of her eyes before the attack
of scarlet fever, and whether she remembered falling and striking on
the back of her head. Then he wished to know whether she ever had
spots or patches of color before her now, and whether there were any
pressure on either side of her head, and many other questions which
should, it seemed, have been simple to answer, but which were somehow
very difficult for Rose. As she said to Betty afterwards, she no sooner
answered a question than she felt she had stated the very opposite of
the truth and ought to take it back. And once when he said: “You are
quite sure it wasn’t the right?” she had declared that it was right and
that was just what she had meant to say.
Finally he put out the light and raised the blind. Betty’s heart sank.
He was through and he hadn’t even tried the eye-cup. Rose’s blindness
was inveterate!
Dr. Vandegrift met her appealing gaze calmly.
“Well, young ladies, I make no promises,” he said in a large way. “The
deeper one delves into science, the more one learns from nature, the
more modest a man becomes, and the less inclined to boast. Now this is
all I am willing to say. Of the four cases of blindness which I have
treated and cured with my recently invented Galvano Eye-Cup, every one
was much more serious than this young lady’s appears to be. If I could
treat her once a week for six months, I feel assured that at the end of
that time she would see as well as I do. Nay, better, for she wouldn’t
even require glasses. As I said, it is not my habit to make promises,
though I confess I am strongly tempted to do so in this case.”
Betty drew a long breath. Of course, they should have realized that the
cure _couldn’t_ be instantaneous. But six months! Then she recollected
that Rose had been blind only twice that period. And it was wicked
to feel impatient of waiting only six months for the most marvelous
happening possible.
“Are you going to be here, doctor?” she asked anxiously.
“I leave the hotel and the city to-morrow,” he returned. “But I have
found so many cases here that need continued treatment that I shall
return to Millville for one day each week.”
He handed Betty a dingy card.
“I shall be at this address every Wednesday, and if you wish to make a
regular appointment, I can see you at any time between two and four in
the afternoon--the mornings are all taken. But unless you are sure of
coming regularly for the six months, you may as well not come again.”
“O, we will!” cried Betty. “Could you see us at this same time?”
He consulted a little book. “Yes, I can give you from quarter-past two
until quarter-before three every Wednesday,” he declared. “My charges
when I use the eye-cup continually, as I shall have to do with the
young lady, are five dollars a visit.”
Betty grew white.
“I am not sure that we can come, then. I don’t believe we could pay
that,” she faltered. “But perhaps Rose’s mother would feel she could.
She doesn’t know of our coming--nobody does--and I wasn’t sure as
we’d better tell her just at first. But I guess we’ll have to. And--I
am almost sure she will, but I don’t feel as if we ought to make the
appointment to-day.”
“Well, I am deeply interested in the case, and I’ll tell you what I’ll
do,” he declared. “I’ll reduce it to three dollars. I believe you are
right in feeling it would be better not to tell the young lady’s mother
or anyone else about it until we are fairly near the end of the cure.
There will come a time, of course, when it can’t be hidden. But for the
present we’ll say nothing. I can’t afford to use the battery connected
with the cup for less than three dollars, but if you will come every
week and pay cash, I will do it for that--just to cover the cost of
operation to me.”
“You are very good,” Betty cried impulsively.
“I don’t know,” he said, “I don’t know, I’m sure. I am interested in
humanity, but I sometimes think it is my overwhelming interest in
science that dominates me. And this case appeals to me scientifically,
I must confess.”
Betty had made rapid calculations which seemed to justify her in making
the appointment. She couldn’t, indeed, see ahead six months, but surely
she was right in taking some risk. Certainly she would do great wrong
to lose this wonderful opportunity.
“Then we will come next Wednesday and every Wednesday,” she said.
“You can put us down, Rose Harrow and Betty Pogany, Wednesdays at
quarter-past two.” And she took Rose’s hand, helped her out of the
chair, and handed her her scarlet tam-o’-shanter.
“For this visit and the examination, however,” Dr. Vandegrift went on,
“I shall have to ask you five dollars, which is half the customary fee.”
Again Betty’s heart sank. She had brought with her ten dollars which
had been a Christmas present and which she had supposed would pay for
the cure when she thought it was to be a matter of one visit. Then she
had felt that it would help make out the weekly deficit. She and Rose
could count on the car-fares they could save, which wouldn’t be the
full ninety cents because they would have to ride more or less during
the winter months, and she had twenty-five cents a week besides. Rose
was a little spendthrift, and hadn’t a penny on hand, and Betty had
less than a dollar outside of her gift. But she drew forth half her
capital and handed it to him without a word.
He received it gravely and recorded their names.
“One thing more,” he added, with his hands on the door, “if I reduce
my charges, you must promise me not only that you will not mention
that fact to anybody, but that you will not let anybody know that you
are coming here to me for treatment. In short, you must promise to say
nothing to anybody about it.”
“I suppose we can--well, just sort of hint to Rose’s mother?” Betty
asked.
“Not for the world--not for at least five months. If you let anyone
know anything about it, you will run the risk of losing the treatment
and Miss Rose will never regain her sight--which would be more than a
pity. It would be a crime. I will tell you why I insist. The doctors
about here are all madly jealous of me and are doing everything they
can to make things disagreeable for me. They have made it impossible
for me to keep these rooms after to-day, and they think they are rid
of me for good. They don’t know of the rooms I have secured on Parrot
Street, you see. And you come from South Paulding. Isn’t there a Dr.
Mellen there?”
The girls admitted the fact.
“Well, it seems he is president of the county medical society which
puts him in a position to be especially disagreeable. He’s a bigoted
fellow, and between you and I, ignorant as he can be--that is, in all
that pertains to the eyes. If he knew I was to be here once a week,
Dr. Mellen would move heaven and earth until he drove me out. He’s
got money and influence, and unfortunately I am poor. What with my
soft heart and my scientific mind, I keep myself poor by my charity.
Now with you I won’t really make a cent. I shall just cover what
electricity my battery consumes.”
“You are awfully good,” declared Betty earnestly, “and we won’t say a
word, of course. Only there’s one gentleman who doesn’t really belong
in South Paulding. He hasn’t been there long and doesn’t associate with
the people and when he wants a doctor goes way to Philadelphia. He is
our best friend. May we tell just him? He’d never breathe it.”
“I am sorry, but I couldn’t risk it. You see there are others depending
on me to heal their eyes also, and for their sake I must not take any
risks. If you are not willing to give me your unconditional promise, I
can’t do anything for you. If you will kindly hand me my card, we will
say good-bye at once,” he said very severely.
“O no, sir!” cried Betty in alarm. “Of course we’ll promise. We
wouldn’t be so selfish, with all the other people wanting treatment. I
only----”
“Very well,” he said, smiling pleasantly, “then I’ll show you how much
I appreciate your action. If you give me your promise, I will also give
you mine. If you both give me your word, and if you come each week
regularly, I will promise you solemnly to make the cure.”
“I promise,” said Betty fervently, and Rose repeated the words. Dr.
Vandegrift opened the door with a flourish and shook hands with them.
They passed through the parlor, where a woman waited with a child with
bandaged eyes, and out into the dirty street again.