AN UNEXPECTED INTERRUPTION.
As Nora rose, and set down Eddie, a leisurely masculine tread sounded in
the hall. When the door opened and revealed Mr. Chillingworth's tall
figure, young Pomeroy turned to Miss Farrell, theatrically whispering:
"Speak of angels and you hear the rustle of their wings!"
"Good evening, Mr. Chillingworth," said Mrs. Blanchard, effusively;
"here are these young people all talking about you."
"I hope they haven't found anything very bad to say," said Mr.
Chillingworth, smiling graciously, as he greeted the party, yet unable
to conceal altogether the sensitiveness to being "talked about," natural
to most reserved and dignified people.
"No! I should hope not!" replied his hostess. "Do you think they would
dare to say anything bad of you here? On the contrary, Miss Farrell has
just been telling us how her cousin, Janie Spencer, has been led, by
your preaching, to make up her mind to be a hospital nurse. I think it's
splendid of her!"
"Yes, it's very fine," replied Mr. Chillingworth. "I am glad she has
decided so. Her mother spoke to me of it some time ago, and I begged her
to say nothing to dissuade her, but to leave her to follow, unbiased,
her own convictions of duty. She has set a noble example."
"Well, I should think you would feel yourself rewarded," Mrs. Blanchard
said, as she poured out a cup of tea, and handed it to her dignified
guest; while Miss Farrell exclaimed:
"I hope you don't expect us all to follow it, Mr. Chillingworth, and go
to be hospital nurses right away!"
"Not in the least," he replied, his dark eyes glancing up at the young
lady from under his strongly marked eyebrows. "I don't think that is
likely to be your vocation, Miss Kitty, at any rate. But there are other
ways of doing good. Life is, indeed, full of opportunities. The pity is,
we let so many of them slip," he added, rather sententiously.
"It would be a pity to let this one slip," remarked Mr. Pomeroy, handing
the clergyman a plate of macaroons, and helping himself at the same
time. "Miss Blanchard, I believe you made these macaroons. They are
first-class."
The young man rather resented the clergyman's intrusion, as he
considered it. He preferred to have both young ladies to himself, just
then.
"The macaroons are excellent," said Mr. Chillingworth, "but I want you
to do something better than that for me. I hope you have been trying
over those choruses, and the air I wanted you to take as a solo."
Miss Blanchard's bright look clouded a little, and her broad white brow
contracted slightly with an expression of perplexity.
"I have tried them," she said; "but I haven't quite made up my mind
about the choruses. I don't altogether like the idea of it yet! And I am
quite sure that my voice isn't equal to a solo of that kind, in such
circumstances."
"Well, you will try it for me, _now_, at least?" he said.
Nora Blanchard was not given to affectations of any kind, so she rose
and complied, quite simply, at once. The clergyman could not but feel
that she was right after all, in her estimate of her voice. Her
rendering of the air "He Shall Feed His Flock Like a Shepherd," was very
rich and sweet, for a drawing-room, but lacked the power and compass
sufficient to fill a concert hall. At his request, she went on with one
or two of the choruses, in which he and Miss Farrell joined her; the
three voices blending very harmoniously in the grand music. Mr.
Chillingworth noticed a new arrangement of the hymn, "Lead, Kindly
Light," on the piano, and asked Miss Blanchard to sing that to him,
which she did with great feeling and expression. As the closing lines
came out in solemn hopefulness--
"And, with the morn, those angel-faces smile
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile--"
the clergyman's gaze, as the observant Mr. Pomeroy noticed, grew
strangely dreamy, as if he were absorbed by the influences of the song.
He seemed to be seeing some inward vision, with pain in it as well as
pleasure; and on the cessation of the music, he started as if awakened
from a spell. Just then, the door opened, and a maid looked in to know
if Mrs. Blanchard could tell when the doctor would be home.
"No, I'm sure I don't know," was the reply. "I thought he was back in
the surgery by this time. Is it any one in a hurry?"
"Yes, it's a young gentleman wid a note, as wants him right off," said
the girl, a new servant, unaccustomed as yet to the exigencies of a
doctor's household.
"Oh," said Miss Blanchard, rising hastily from the piano, "I suppose
it's some one from Mr. Easton's, for the medicine that Will told me
about. I was to see him and give him a particular message. Excuse me,
Mr. Chillingworth, I won't be long."
The clergyman seemed still preoccupied, and did not join in the talk of
the others while she was gone. In a few minutes she returned, her cheek
glowing and her eye bright with some new interest.
"What's the matter, Nora?" said Mrs. Blanchard, looking at her with some
surprise.
"Oh," she replied, hurriedly, "it's a messenger from Mr. Alden, wanting
Will at once, for a very sad case--a poor young woman who seems dying of
bronchitis and exhaustion. And she has no one with her but a child. I
think I must go myself, for I know quite well what to do. I didn't nurse
Auntie through bronchitis last winter for nothing! I can take some
fluid-beef and make her a little beef-tea, at any rate. And I know where
there is some of the medicine Will prescribed for Auntie."
"Oh, dear! I _wish_ you weren't _quite_ so philanthropic. I don't like
to let you go, but--I suppose you must, now you've taken up the idea.
And if Mr. Alden knows about it, it must be all right. Will can go as
soon as he's had dinner, and bring you back. I'll keep some dinner for
you. I hope it isn't far, though."
"Oh, no, not very," replied Miss Blanchard. "I'm sorry to seem rude in
leaving you all," she added, smiling, "but you see, if one doesn't go
out to be a nurse, one must not let slip the opportunities Mr.
Chillingworth was talking of just now."
"Certainly! It is most praiseworthy," said that gentleman, "and if
you'll allow me, I shall be most happy to be your escort."
Mr. Pomeroy had come forward at the same moment with a similar request.
But Miss Blanchard courteously declined both, saying that Mr. Alden's
messenger would be escort enough.
"And I shall leave the address, as well as I can, on the surgery-slate,"
she added, "and Will can drive down when he's ready. I've no doubt the
poor thing needs nourishment more than medicine. Of course I'll take
some spirits with me, too," she added. "I believe it was that saved
Auntie, little as she likes to admit it."
"Well, don't go taking bronchitis yourself," said her sister-in-law.
"Mind you wrap up well, for it's raw and cold, as Mr. Pomeroy says."
"Oh, yes, don't be afraid!" said Nora brightly, as, with many regrets on
the part of her friends, she left the pleasant, luxurious apartment.
"I believe," said Mrs. Blanchard, as the door closed after her and
Eddie, who went to see her off, "that Nora wouldn't feel at home here,
without some sick people to visit and look after. You see she always
goes about everywhere with Aunt Margaret, in Rockland. Aunt Margaret's a
regular Sister of Mercy, without a uniform, and Nora has always taken to
going with her quite naturally. You know, Rockland's such a quiet little
place, that there's hardly anything else to do in winter. That's one
reason why I wanted Nora to spend the winter with us, for once, and see
something different. She has been with Aunt Margaret so long that she
has taken up all her ideas and ways."
"Then, Aunt Margaret must be a darling," said the enthusiastic Kitty,
"for I am sure Nora is, if there ever was one! She and Janie Spencer are
the best girls I know."
"It's nice to be one of Miss Farrell's friends," said Mr. Pomeroy. "I
hope you do as well by me when I'm not there."
"_You_, indeed!" laughed Kitty, though she colored a little, or so
thought Mr. Chillingworth, whose critical eye rested admiringly on the
charming _piquante_ face with its delicate bloom, and the very fair
hair, "thrown up" by an artistic Gainsborough hat of dark-blue velvet,
with a long drooping feather. He was rather disconcerted by Miss
Blanchard's sudden departure;--still there was no denying that Miss
Kitty Farrell made a very charming picture, and, as Mr. Chillingworth
was fond of saying to himself, "beauty has its uses."
"Well, they're gone!" announced Eddie, coming in presently.
"_They_--who?" asked his mother.
"Why, Aunt Nora, and the--man," said Eddie, slowly. He was going to say
"the gentleman," but as he always heard his father talk of "men," he was
trying to imitate him.
"Oh! the man Mr. Alden sent, I suppose. I hope he's all right," she
added, a little uneasily. "But, of course he came for Doctor Blanchard
himself," she continued, reassured.
"Oh, he's a real nice man!" said Eddie. "_I_ like him. He talked to me
while Auntie was getting the things ready. I hope he'll come here
again!"
"Eddie is always taking such funny fancies!" said Mrs. Blanchard. "I'll
have to ask Nora about this unknown cavalier."
Mr. Chillingworth's brow contracted--he scarcely knew why. He was sorry,
now, that he had not more strongly pressed his escort on Miss Blanchard.
He did not like the idea of her traversing the streets after dark,
attended by an unknown "man" who had made himself so agreeable to Eddie.
But it couldn't be helped now.
It was strange, after all, how much of the life and charm seemed to have
gone out of the little party with Nora's departure--for she was not a
great talker herself. Meantime she was on her way to her unknown
patient, while her guide carried her basket, and, so far as he could,
answered her questions about the poor woman in whom her interest had
been so suddenly awakened.