Priscilla Standish was waiting at our big railroad station, on a warm
Spring day, for a train to pull out, so that cross-track traffic could
start again. It was just an ordinary train such as stop hourly at
Branton Hills, but Priscilla saw that a group was hurrying toward a
combination-car, way up forward. Now Priscilla was not a girl who found
morbid curiosity in any such a public spot; but, still, an odd, uncanny
sort of thrill,--almost a chill, in fact,--was urging, urging a slow
walk toward that car. Just why, Priscilla didn't know; but such things
do occur in a human mind. So Priscilla soon was standing on a trunk
truck, gazing down into that group which now was slowly moving back,
forming room for taking out a young man in khaki uniform, on a hospital
cot. With a gasp of horror, Priscilla was instantly down from that
truck, pushing through that group, and crying out, wildly:--
"_Arthur!_ Arthur Rankin! Oh! Oh! What is it, darling?" and looking up
at a hospital assistant, "Is it bad?"
"Don't know, right now, lady," said that snowy clad official.
"Unconscious. But our big hospital will do all it can for him."
Arthur Rankin! Arthur, with whom Priscilla had had many a childhood
spat! Arthur who had shown that "puppy stuff" for Priscilla, that his
old aunt was always so disapprovingly sniffing at! And now, unconscious
on a,----
With a murmuring of sympathy from that sorrowing public, now
dissolving, as all crowds do, Priscilla had a quick, comforting
thought: "Kathlyn is working at that hospital!"
Kathlyn had known Arthur as long as Priscilla had; and Kathlyn's famous
ability would----
So our panting and worrying girl was hurrying along through Broadway's
turning and inquiring crowds to that big hospital which our
Organization of Youth had had built. And now Arthur was going, for not
long, possibly, but, still possibly for----
* * * * *
It was midnight in that big still building. Old Doctor Wilkins stood by
Arthur's cot; Priscilla, sobbing pitifully, was waiting in a corridor,
with Lady Standish giving what comfort a woman could. Lady Standish,
who took in dogs, cats, rabbits or any living thing that was hurt, sick
or lost; Lady Standish, donor of four thousand dollars for our big
Zoo; Lady Standish, kindly savior of Clancy's and Dowd's "Big Four,"
now waiting, without ability to aid a _human_ animal. Finally, Doctor
Wilkins, coming out, said:--
"Kathlyn says no sign of blood contamination, but vitality low; _badly_
low; sinking, I think. Railroad trip almost too much for him. Looks
bad."
But, at this instant, an assistant, calling Wilkins, said Arthur was
coming out of his coma; and was murmuring "about a woman known as
Priscilla. Do you know anybody by----?"
With a racking sob, Priscilla shot through that door, Lady Standish
quickly following. Arthur, picking up, a bit, from Priscilla's soft,
oh, _so_ soft and loving crooning and patting, took that fond hand
and--sank back! Doctor Wilkins, looking knowingly at Priscilla, said:--
"If it is as I think, you two had had thoughts of--"
A vigorous nod from Priscilla, and an approving look from Lady
Standish, and Doctor Wilkins said:--
"Hm-m-m! It should occur _right now!_ Or,----"
As quick as a flash that snowy-clad assistant was phoning; and,
_astonishingly_ soon, our good Pastor Brown stood by that cot; and,
with Arthur in a most surprising pick-up, holding Priscilla's hot,
shaking hand, through that still hospital room was wafting Priscilla's
soft, low words:--
"... you for my lawful husband, until ..."
* * * * *
Doctor Wilkins, going out with Priscilla, now trying, oh, _so_ hard for
control; with grand, charming, loving Kathlyn, arm in arm, said:--
"That joy will pull him through. Boys, at war, so far away, will
naturally droop, both in body and mind, from lack of a particular
girl's snuggling and cuddling. So just wait until Kathlyn finds out
all about his condition; and good food, with this happy culmination of
a childhood infatuation, will put him in first-class condition, if no
complications show up."
Ah! What an important part of a city's institutions a hospital is!
What a comfort to all, to know that, should injury or any ailing
condition of man, woman or child occur without warning, anybody can,
simply through phoning find quick transportation at his door; and, with
angrily clanging gongs, or high-pitch whistlings obtaining a "right of
way" through all traffic, that institution's doors will swing apart,
assistants will quickly surround that cot, and an ability for doing
anything that Man _can_ do is at hand. You know, almost daily, of
capitalists of philanthropic mold, donating vast sums to a town or
an association; but, in your historian's mind, no donation can do so
much good as that which builds, or maintains hospitalization for all.
A library, a school, a boys' or girls' club, a vacation facility, a
"chair" of this or that in an institution of instruction,--all do much
to build up a community. Both doctoring as a study for a young man, and
nursing for a girl form most important parts of Mankind's activity.
And so, just four months from that awful, but also happy day, Arthur
Rankin sat in a hammock with Priscilla, on Lady Standish's porch, with
four small Rankins playing around; or was walking around that back yard
full of cats, dogs, rabbits, and so on, with no thought of soap box
orations in his mind.