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 behalf of 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
something to 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 removed the 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.