THE OLD LADY
The road was rather a difficult one, and several small hills had to be
surmounted. The girls took turns in having one of them walk beside the
sled with her hand steadying their passenger, who at times protested
feebly against all the trouble she was making. She volunteered the
information that her name was Sarah Bragley, that she was a widow, and
that she had no kith or kin in the world as far as she knew. These facts
redoubled the pity of the girls, and they mentally resolved that as long
as they were at Lakeview Hall they would do all they could to make life
more bearable for the frail and forlorn woman who had been brought into
their lives in a way so unexpected and so nearly tragic.
In a little while Bess rejoined them, panting a little from the
exertions she had made to catch up to them.
"It's all right," she announced. "I told Professor Krenner, and he told
us to do all that we could, no matter how long it took, and said that he
would explain the whole thing to Dr. Prescott. And Linda Riggs was
there, and what do you think she said? But I'll tell you about that some
other time," she said, as she saw a spasm of pain come over the injured
woman's face. "Here, let me get hold of that rope and we'll get on
faster."
She took hold with a will, and the bobsled moved along rapidly until a
little bridge that spanned the road over a small stream came into view.
The stream now was a solid mass of ice.
"There's the bridge!" ejaculated Grace. "We can't be very far from the
house now."
"And there's the blacksmith shop and a little house right beyond it,"
added Nan. "Is that your house?" she asked Mrs. Bragley, beside whom she
was walking.
"That's it, dearie," was the answer. "It ain't much of a place," she
added apologetically.
"It's a cunning little darling of a place," protested Rhoda, not quite
truthfully, but so warm-heartedly that the recording angel probably did
not lay it up against her.
"It's very nice," added Nan.
In a few minutes more they were before the tiny house, which seemed to
consist of several rooms on one floor and a single room above.
Everything about it suggested straitened means, and yet the girls
noticed that the small windows were clean and hung with fresh dimity
curtains, and that there were little flower boxes on the sills inside.
They drew the sled through the gate and up the path to the door.
"Have you the key?" Nan asked, as she took off her gloves.
"It isn't locked," Mrs. Bragley replied, with a faint smile. "There's
nothing in there that would tempt anybody to steal. Just open the door
and go right in."
Nan did as she was told. She found herself in what evidently served as a
living-room and dining-room and kitchen combined. In a little room
opening off to the right, she caught a glimpse of a bed. There was a
wood stove with the embers of a fire in it, and the room was still
fairly warm. Everything was as scrupulously neat as her first impression
from without had led her to expect. But the scanty and worn furniture
showed a desperate struggle with poverty that touched the girl's heart.
Under Nan's directions, the girls lifted Mrs. Bragley from the sled and
gently deposited her in the one rocking chair that the apartment
contained, first, however, placing a cushion in it to make it more
comfortable.
"Now, girls," said Nan, "let's all get busy. In the first place, we want
to get this fire going. Where do you keep your wood?" she asked, turning
to the invalid.
"There's plenty of it in the little woodshed at the back," was the
answer. "The neighbors always cut enough for me to last me through the
winter. But it's a shame that you should have to go for it," she called
after Nan, who had already started for the woodshed.
Her protests were unheeded, and in a moment Nan was back, accompanied by
Bess, who had gone with her, their arms full of wood which they laid
beside the stove.
In a few minutes a cheerful fire was roaring in the stove. Then,
following the directions of Mrs. Bragley, they found some tea and brewed
it, and set out a little lunch which they pressed the woman to eat. The
food and tea refreshed and revived her, and, as her shyness wore off,
she talked with them freely.
Nan found some arnica with which she bathed the injured ankle, and then
they helped their patient to undress and get into bed. And having done
this, and seen that she was as comfortable as it was possible to make
her, the girls withdrew into a corner to hold, as Nan expressed it, a
"committee meeting to discuss ways and means."
"Now, girls, just what are we going to do?" demanded Nan, as her friends
gathered round her with anxious looks on their faces.
"Take care of this poor woman until she is able to be on her feet
again," responded Bess promptly. "We can't do less."
"Of course, that goes without saying," agreed Nan. "We're the cause of
her present trouble, and it's up to us to get her out of it. The only
question is as to the best way to do it."
"Go ahead and tell us, Nan," urged Grace. "You've got the best head of
any of us when it comes to an emergency like this."
"The first thing," suggested Nan, "is to get a doctor."
"I'm so glad it isn't an undertaker we have to call for," put in Grace,
with a shudder.
"And the next," continued Nan, "is to find a nurse. The poor thing is
utterly helpless just now with that hurt ankle. She can't even keep up
the fire, and the weather's so cold she'd freeze to death if the fire
went out."
"If we only had a telephone," murmured Rhoda, as her eye wandered over
the place, though she knew beforehand that such an instrument would not
be found in that poor cottage.
"Well, we haven't," replied Nan. "So I'll tell you what we'll do. Bess
and I will stay here and try to make our patient as comfortable as we
can. The rest of you girls had better go right up to the Hall and tell
Dr. Prescott all about it. She'll have a doctor here in less than no
time, and she or Mrs. Cupp will know of some nurse they can get in the
town. We'll stay here anyway until they come. But the afternoon's going
fast, and you want to hurry as much as you can. It will probably be dark
anyhow when the doctor and the nurse get here, and, as we don't know
the road very well, we don't want to be too late in getting back to the
Hall."
"You needn't worry about that," said Grace, as she put on her wraps.
"I'll 'phone to Walter as soon as I get to the Hall and he'll come over
and take you home."
"In that case I'd better go along with you now," put in Bess, with a
mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I'm afraid it will be a case where two
is company and three's a crowd."
"Don't talk such nonsense," said Nan, though a slight flush had risen to
her cheeks at her chum's raillery. "But, girls, before you go there's
one other thing; and that is, the matter of money. I don't suppose," she
went on, lowering her voice lest the invalid should hear, "that the poor
woman has anything of any account. How much money have you girls with
you?"
What the warm-hearted girls had with them at the moment was very little,
but what it was they all handed over, and the total amounted to several
dollars.
"Of course we'll all club together and see that she has all she needs to
get through this trouble," declared Laura, and there was a unanimous
chorus of assent.
"And now, shoo!" commanded Nan, as she opened the door to hasten their
exit. "And see how quickly you can get the nurse and the doctor here.
Don't bother about the sled. We'll bring that along when we come, or
send over after it to-morrow."
The three girls promised to hurry, and made off. Nan and Bess watched
them until they had passed out of sight beyond the bridge, and then
turned to look after their patient.