I refused to take that class in Sunday School the first time I was
asked. It was not that I objected to teaching in the Sunday School. On
the contrary I rather liked the idea; but it was the Rev. Mr. Allan who
asked me, and it had always been a matter of principle with me never
to do anything a man asked me to do if I could help it. I was noted
for that. It saves a great deal of trouble and it simplifies everything
beautifully. I had always disliked men. It must have been born in me,
because, as far back as I can remember, an antipathy to men and dogs
was one of my strongest characteristics. I was noted for that. My
experiences through life only served to deepen it. The more I saw of
men, the more I liked cats.
So, of course, when the Rev. Allan asked me if I would consent to take a
class in Sunday School, I said no in a fashion calculated to chasten
him wholesomely. If he had sent his wife the first time, as he did the
second, it would have been wiser. People generally do what Mrs. Allan
asks them to do because they know it saves time.
Mrs. Allan talked smoothly for half an hour before she mentioned the
Sunday School, and paid me several compliments. Mrs. Allan is famous
for her tact. Tact is a faculty for meandering around to a given point
instead of making a bee-line. I have no tact. I am noted for that. As
soon as Mrs. Allan’s conversation came in sight of the Sunday School, I,
who knew all along whither it was tending, said, straight out,
“What class do you want me to teach?”
Mrs. Allan was so surprised that she forgot to be tactful, and answered
plainly for once in her life,
“There are two classes--one of boys and one of girls--needing a teacher.
I have been teaching the girls’ class, but I shall have to give it up
for a little time on account of the baby’s health. You may have your
choice, Miss MacPherson.”
“Then I shall take the boys,” I said decidedly. I am noted for my
decision. “Since they have to grow up to be men it’s well to train
them properly betimes. Nuisances they are bound to become under any
circumstances; but if they are taken in hand young enough they may not
grow up to be such nuisances as they otherwise would and that will be
some unfortunate woman’s gain.” Mrs. Allan looked dubious. I knew she
had expected me to choose the girls.
“They are a very wild set of boys,” she said.
“I never knew boys who weren’t,” I retorted.
“I--I--think perhaps you would like the girls best,” said Mrs. Allan
hesitatingly. If it had not been for one thing--which I would never in
this world have admitted to Mrs. Allan--I might have liked the girls’
class best myself. But the truth was, Anne Shirley was in that class;
and Anne Shirley was the one living human being that I was afraid of.
Not that I disliked her. But she had such a habit of asking weird,
unexpected questions, which a Philadelphia lawyer couldn’t answer.
Miss Rogerson had that class once and Anne routed her, horse, foot
and artillery. _I_ wasn’t going to undertake a class with a walking
interrogation point in it like that. Besides, I thought Mrs. Allan
required a slight snub. Ministers’ wives are rather apt to think they
can run everything and everybody, if they are not wholesomely corrected
now and again.
“It is not what _I_ like best that must be considered, Mrs. Allan,” I
said rebukingly. “It is what is best for those boys. I feel that _I_
shall be best for THEM.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt of that, Miss MacPherson,” said Mrs. Allan amiably.
It was a fib for her, minister’s wife though she was. She HAD doubt. She
thought I would be a dismal failure as teacher of a boys’ class.
But I was not. I am not often a dismal failure when I make up my mind to
do a thing. I am noted for that.
“It is wonderful what a reformation you have worked in that class, Miss
MacPherson--wonderful,” said the Rev. Mr. Allan some weeks later. He
didn’t mean to show how amazing a thing he thought it that an old
maid noted for being a man hater should have managed it, but his face
betrayed him.
“Where does Jimmy Spencer live?” I asked him crisply. “He came one
Sunday three weeks ago and hasn’t been back since. I mean to find out
why.”
Mr. Allan coughed.
“I believe he is hired as handy boy with Alexander Abraham Bennett, out
on the White Sands road,” he said.
“Then I am going out to Alexander Abraham Bennett’s on the White Sands
road to see why Jimmy Spencer doesn’t come to Sunday school,” I said
firmly.
Mr. Allan’s eyes twinkled ever so slightly. I have always insisted that
if that man were not a minister he would have a sense of humour.
“Possibly Mr. Bennett will not appreciate your kind interest! He
has--ah--a singular aversion to your sex, I understand. No woman has
ever been known to get inside of Mr. Bennett’s house since his sister
died twenty years ago.”
“Oh, he is the one, is he?” I said, remembering. “He is the woman hater
who threatens that if a woman comes into his yard he’ll chase her out
with a pitch-fork. Well, he will not chase ME out!”
Mr. Allan gave a chuckle--a ministerial chuckle, but still a chuckle.
It irritated me slightly, because it seemed to imply that he thought
Alexander Abraham Bennett would be one too many for me. But I did not
show Mr. Allan that he annoyed me. It is always a great mistake to let a
man see that he can vex you.
The next afternoon I harnessed my sorrel pony to the buggy and drove
down to Alexander Abraham Bennett’s. As usual, I took William Adolphus
with me for company. William Adolphus is my favourite among my six cats.
He is black, with a white dicky and beautiful white paws. He sat up on
the seat beside me and looked far more like a gentleman than many a man
I’ve seen in a similar position.
Alexander Abraham’s place was about three miles along the White
Sands road. I knew the house as soon as I came to it by its neglected
appearance. It needed paint badly; the blinds were crooked and torn;
weeds grew up to the very door. Plainly, there was no woman about THAT
place. Still, it was a nice house, and the barns were splendid. My
father always said that when a man’s barns were bigger than his house it
was a sign that his income exceeded his expenditure. So it was all right
that they should be bigger; but it was all wrong that they should be
trimmer and better painted. Still, thought I, what else could you expect
of a woman hater?
“But Alexander Abraham evidently knows how to run a farm, even it he is
a woman hater,” I remarked to William Adolphus as I got out and tied the
pony to the railing.
I had driven up to the house from the back way and now I was opposite a
side door opening on the veranda. I thought I might as well go to it, so
I tucked William Adolphus under my arm and marched up the path. Just
as I was half-way up, a dog swooped around the front corner and made
straight for me. He was the ugliest dog I had ever seen; and he didn’t
even bark--just came silently and speedily on, with a business-like eye.
I never stop to argue matters with a dog that doesn’t bark. I know
when discretion is the better part of valour. Firmly clasping William
Adolphus, I ran--not to the door, because the dog was between me and it,
but to a big, low-branching cherry tree at the back corner of the house.
I reached it in time and no more. First thrusting William Adolphus on
to a limb above my head, I scrambled up into that blessed tree without
stopping to think how it might look to Alexander Abraham if he happened
to be watching.
My time for reflection came when I found myself perched half way up the
tree with William Adolphus beside me. William Adolphus was quite calm
and unruffled. I can hardly say with truthfulness what I was. On the
contrary, I admit that I felt considerably upset.
The dog was sitting on his haunches on the ground below, watching us,
and it was quite plain to be seen, from his leisurely manner, that it
was not his busy day. He bared his teeth and growled when he caught my
eye.
“You LOOK like a woman hater’s dog,” I told him. I meant it for an
insult; but the beast took it for a compliment.
Then I set myself to solving the question, “How am I to get out of this
predicament?”
It did not seem easy to solve it.
“Shall I scream, William Adolphus?” I demanded of that intelligent
animal. William Adolphus shook his head. This is a fact. And I agreed
with him.
“No, I shall not scream, William Adolphus,” I said. “There is probably
no one to hear me except Alexander Abraham, and I have my painful doubts
about his tender mercies. Now, it is impossible to go down. Is it, then,
William Adolphus, possible to go up?”
I looked up. Just above my head was an open window with a tolerably
stout branch extending right across it.
“Shall we try that way, William Adolphus?” I asked.
William Adolphus, wasting no words, began to climb the tree. I followed
his example. The dog ran in circles about the tree and looked things
not lawful to be uttered. It probably would have been a relief to him to
bark if it hadn’t been so against his principles.
I got in by the window easily enough, and found myself in a bedroom the
like of which for disorder and dust and general awfulness I had never
seen in all my life. But I did not pause to take in details. With
William Adolphus under my arm I marched downstairs, fervently hoping I
should meet no one on the way.
I did not. The hall below was empty and dusty. I opened the first door
I came to and walked boldly in. A man was sitting by the window, looking
moodily out. I should have known him for Alexander Abraham anywhere. He
had just the same uncared-for, ragged appearance that the house had; and
yet, like the house, it seemed that he would not be bad looking if
he were trimmed up a little. His hair looked as if it had never been
combed, and his whiskers were wild in the extreme.
He looked at me with blank amazement in his countenance.
“Where is Jimmy Spencer?” I demanded. “I have come to see him.”
“How did he ever let you in?” asked the man, staring at me.
“He didn’t let me in,” I retorted. “He chased me all over the lawn, and
I only saved myself from being torn piecemeal by scrambling up a tree.
You ought to be prosecuted for keeping such a dog! Where is Jimmy?”
Instead of answering Alexander Abraham began to laugh in a most
unpleasant fashion.
“Trust a woman for getting into a man’s house if she has made up her
mind to,” he said disagreeably.
Seeing that it was his intention to vex me I remained cool and
collected.
“Oh, I wasn’t particular about getting into your house, Mr. Bennett,” I
said calmly. “I had but little choice in the matter. It was get in
lest a worse fate befall me. It was not you or your house I wanted to
see--although I admit that it is worth seeing if a person is anxious to
find out how dirty a place CAN be. It was Jimmy. For the third and last
time--where is Jimmy?”
“Jimmy is not here,” said Mr. Bennett gruffly--but not quite so
assuredly. “He left last week and hired with a man over at Newbridge.”
“In that case,” I said, picking up William Adolphus, who had been
exploring the room with a disdainful air, “I won’t disturb you any
longer. I shall go.”
“Yes, I think it would be the wisest thing,” said Alexander Abraham--not
disagreeably this time, but reflectively, as if there was some
doubt about the matter. “I’ll let you out by the back door. Then
the--ahem!--the dog will not interfere with you. Please go away quietly
and quickly.”
I wondered if Alexander Abraham thought I would go away with a whoop.
But I said nothing, thinking this the most dignified course of conduct,
and I followed him out to the kitchen as quickly and quietly as he could
have wished. Such a kitchen!
Alexander Abraham opened the door--which was locked--just as a buggy
containing two men drove into the yard.
“Too late!” he exclaimed in a tragic tone. I understood that something
dreadful must have happened, but I did not care, since, as I
fondly supposed, it did not concern me. I pushed out past Alexander
Abraham--who was looking as guilty as if he had been caught
burglarizing--and came face to face with the man who had sprung from the
buggy. It was old Dr. Blair, from Carmody, and he was looking at me as
if he had found me shoplifting.
“My dear Peter,” he said gravely, “I am VERY sorry to see you here--very
sorry indeed.”
I admit that this exasperated me. Besides, no man on earth, not even my
own family doctor, has any right to “My dear Peter” me!
“There is no loud call for sorrow, doctor,” I said loftily. “If a woman,
forty-eight years of age, a member of the Presbyterian church in good
and regular standing, cannot call upon one of her Sunday School scholars
without wrecking all the proprieties, how old must she be before she
can?”
The doctor did not answer my question. Instead, he looked reproachfully
at Alexander Abraham.
“Is this how you keep your word, Mr. Bennett?” he said. “I thought that
you promised me that you would not let anyone into the house.”
“I didn’t let her in,” growled Mr. Bennett. “Good heavens, man, she
climbed in at an upstairs window, despite the presence on my grounds of
a policeman and a dog! What is to be done with a woman like that?”
“I do not understand what all this means,” I said addressing myself to
the doctor and ignoring Alexander Abraham entirely, “but if my presence
here is so extremely inconvenient to all concerned, you can soon be
relieved of it. I am going at once.”
“I am very sorry, my dear Peter,” said the doctor impressively,
“but that is just what I cannot allow you to do. This house is under
quarantine for smallpox. You will have to stay here.”
Smallpox! For the first and last time in my life, I openly lost my
temper with a man. I wheeled furiously upon Alexander Abraham.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I cried.
“Tell you!” he said, glaring at me. “When I first saw you it was too
late to tell you. I thought the kindest thing I could do was to hold my
tongue and let you get away in happy ignorance. This will teach you to
take a man’s house by storm, madam!”
“Now, now, don’t quarrel, my good people,” interposed the doctor
seriously--but I saw a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll have to spend some
time together under the same roof and you won’t improve the situation
by disagreeing. You see, Peter, it was this way. Mr. Bennett was in
town yesterday--where, as you are aware, there is a bad outbreak of
smallpox--and took dinner in a boarding-house where one of the maids
was ill. Last night she developed unmistakable symptoms of smallpox. The
Board of Health at once got after all the people who were in the
house yesterday, so far as they could locate them, and put them under
quarantine. I came down here this morning and explained the matter to
Mr. Bennett. I brought Jeremiah Jeffries to guard the front of the house
and Mr. Bennett gave me his word of honour that he would not let anyone
in by the back way while I went to get another policeman and make
all the necessary arrangements. I have brought Thomas Wright and have
secured the services of another man to attend to Mr. Bennett’s barn work
and bring provisions to the house. Jacob Green and Cleophas Lee will
watch at night. I don’t think there is much danger of Mr. Bennett’s
taking the smallpox, but until we are sure you must remain here, Peter.”
While listening to the doctor I had been thinking. It was the most
distressing predicament I had ever got into in my life, but there was no
sense in making it worse.
“Very well, doctor,” I said calmly. “Yes, I was vaccinated a month
ago, when the news of the smallpox first came. When you go back through
Avonlea kindly go to Sarah Pye and ask her to live in my house during
my absence and look after things, especially the cats. Tell her to give
them new milk twice a day and a square inch of butter apiece once a
week. Get her to put my two dark print wrappers, some aprons, and some
changes of underclothing in my third best valise and have it sent down
to me. My pony is tied out there to the fence. Please take him home.
That is all, I think.”
“No, it isn’t all,” said Alexander Abraham grumpily. “Send that
cat home, too. I won’t have a cat around the place--I’d rather have
smallpox.”
I looked Alexander Abraham over gradually, in a way I have, beginning at
his feet and traveling up to his head. I took my time over it; and then
I said, very quietly.
“You may have both. Anyway, you’ll have to have William Adolphus. He is
under quarantine as well as you and I. Do you suppose I am going to have
my cat ranging at large through Avonlea, scattering smallpox germs among
innocent people? I’ll have to put up with that dog of yours. You will
have to endure William Adolphus.”
Alexander Abraham groaned, but I could see that the way I had looked him
over had chastened him considerably.
The doctor drove away, and I went into the house, not choosing to linger
outside and be grinned at by Thomas Wright. I hung my coat up in the
hall and laid my bonnet carefully on the sitting-room table, having
first dusted a clean place for it with my handkerchief. I longed to fall
upon that house at once and clean it up, but I had to wait until the
doctor came back with my wrapper. I could not clean house in my new suit
and a silk shirtwaist.
Alexander Abraham was sitting on a chair looking at me. Presently he
said,
“I am NOT curious--but will you kindly tell me why the doctor called you
Peter?”
“Because that is my name, I suppose,” I answered, shaking up a cushion
for William Adolphus and thereby disturbing the dust of years.
Alexander Abraham coughed gently.
“Isn’t that--ahem!--rather a peculiar name for a woman?”
“It is,” I said, wondering how much soap, if any, there was in the
house.
“I am NOT curious,” said Alexander Abraham, “but would you mind telling
me how you came to be called Peter?”
“If I had been a boy my parents intended to call me Peter in honour of
a rich uncle. When I--fortunately--turned out to be a girl my mother
insisted that I should be called Angelina. They gave me both names and
called me Angelina, but as soon as I grew old enough I decided to be
called Peter. It was bad enough, but not so bad as Angelina.”
“I should say it was more appropriate,” said Alexander Abraham,
intending, as I perceived, to be disagreeable.
“Precisely,” I agreed calmly. “My last name is MacPherson, and I live
in Avonlea. As you are NOT curious, that will be all the information you
will need about me.”
“Oh!” Alexander Abraham looked as if a light had broken in on him. “I’ve
heard of you. You--ah--pretend to dislike men.”
Pretend! Goodness only knows what would have happened to Alexander
Abraham just then if a diversion had not taken place. But the door
opened and a dog came in--THE dog. I suppose he had got tired waiting
under the cherry tree for William Adolphus and me to come down. He was
even uglier indoors than out.
“Oh, Mr. Riley, Mr. Riley, see what you have let me in for,” said
Alexander Abraham reproachfully.
But Mr. Riley--since that was the brute’s name--paid no attention to
Alexander Abraham. He had caught sight of William Adolphus curled up on
the cushion, and he started across the room to investigate him. William
Adolphus sat up and began to take notice.
“Call off that dog,” I said warningly to Alexander Abraham.
“Call him off yourself,” he retorted. “Since you’ve brought that cat
here you can protect him.”
“Oh, it wasn’t for William Adolphus’ sake I spoke,” I said pleasantly.
“William Adolphus can protect himself.”
William Adolphus could and did. He humped his back, flattened his ears,
swore once, and then made a flying leap for Mr. Riley. William Adolphus
landed squarely on Mr. Riley’s brindled back and promptly took fast
hold, spitting and clawing and caterwauling.
You never saw a more astonished dog than Mr. Riley. With a yell of
terror he bolted out to the kitchen, out of the kitchen into the hall,
through the hall into the room, and so into the kitchen and round again.
With each circuit he went faster and faster, until he looked like a
brindled streak with a dash of black and white on top. Such a racket
and commotion I never heard, and I laughed until the tears came into
my eyes. Mr. Riley flew around and around, and William Adolphus held on
grimly and clawed. Alexander Abraham turned purple with rage.
“Woman, call off that infernal cat before he kills my dog,” he shouted
above the din of yelps and yowls.
“Oh, he won’t kill him,” I said reassuringly, “and he’s going too fast
to hear me if I did call him. If you can stop the dog, Mr. Bennett, I’ll
guarantee to make William Adolphus listen to reason, but there’s no use
trying to argue with a lightning flash.”
Alexander Abraham made a frantic lunge at the brindled streak as it
whirled past him, with the result that he overbalanced himself and went
sprawling on the floor with a crash. I ran to help him up, which only
seemed to enrage him further.
“Woman,” he spluttered viciously, “I wish you and your fiend of a cat
were in--in--”
“In Avonlea,” I finished quickly, to save Alexander Abraham from
committing profanity. “So do I, Mr. Bennett, with all my heart. But
since we are not, let us make the best of it like sensible people. And
in future you will kindly remember that my name is Miss MacPherson, NOT
Woman!”
With this the end came and I was thankful, for the noise those two
animals made was so terrific that I expected the policeman would be
rushing in, smallpox or no smallpox, to see if Alexander Abraham and I
were trying to murder each other. Mr. Riley suddenly veered in his mad
career and bolted into a dark corner between the stove and the wood-box,
William Adolphus let go just in time.
There never was any more trouble with Mr. Riley after that. A meeker,
more thoroughly chastened dog you could not find. William Adolphus had
the best of it and he kept it.
Seeing that things had calmed down and that it was five o’clock I
decided to get tea. I told Alexander Abraham that I would prepare it, if
he would show me where the eatables were.
“You needn’t mind,” said Alexander Abraham. “I’ve been in the habit of
getting my own tea for twenty years.”
“I daresay. But you haven’t been in the habit of getting mine,” I said
firmly. “I wouldn’t eat anything you cooked if I starved to death. If
you want some occupation, you’d better get some salve and anoint the
scratches on that poor dog’s back.”
Alexander Abraham said something that I prudently did not hear. Seeing
that he had no information to hand out I went on an exploring expedition
into the pantry. The place was awful beyond description, and for the
first time a vague sentiment of pity for Alexander Abraham glimmered in
my breast. When a man had to live in such surroundings the wonder was,
not that he hated women, but that he didn’t hate the whole human race.
But I got up a supper somehow. I am noted for getting up suppers. The
bread was from the Carmody bakery and I made good tea and excellent
toast; besides, I found a can of peaches in the pantry which, as they
were bought, I wasn’t afraid to eat.
That tea and toast mellowed Alexander Abraham in spite of himself. He
ate the last crust, and didn’t growl when I gave William Adolphus all
the cream that was left. Mr. Riley did not seem to want anything. He had
no appetite.
By this time the doctor’s boy had arrived with my valise. Alexander
Abraham gave me quite civilly to understand that there was a spare room
across the hall and that I might take possession of it. I went to it and
put on a wrapper. There was a set of fine furniture in the room, and a
comfortable bed. But the dust! William Adolphus had followed me in and
his paws left marks everywhere he walked.
“Now,” I said briskly, returning to the kitchen, “I’m going to clean up
and I shall begin with this kitchen. You’d better betake yourself to the
sitting-room, Mr. Bennett, so as to be out of the way.”
Alexander Abraham glared at me.
“I’m not going to have my house meddled with,” he snapped. “It suits me.
If you don’t like it you can leave it.”
“No, I can’t. That is just the trouble,” I said pleasantly. “If I could
leave it I shouldn’t be here for a minute. Since I can’t, it simply has
to be cleaned. I can tolerate men and dogs when I am compelled to, but
I cannot and will not tolerate dirt and disorder. Go into the
sitting-room.”
Alexander Abraham went. As he closed the door, I heard him say, in
capitals, “WHAT AN AWFUL WOMAN!”
I cleared that kitchen and the pantry adjoining. It was ten o’clock when
I got through, and Alexander Abraham had gone to bed without deigning
further speech. I locked Mr. Riley in one room and William Adolphus in
another and went to bed, too. I had never felt so dead tired in my life
before. It had been a hard day.
But I got up bright and early the next morning and got a tiptop
breakfast, which Alexander Abraham condescended to eat. When the
provision man came into the yard I called to him from the window
to bring me a box of soap in the afternoon, and then I tackled the
sitting-room.
It took me the best part of a week to get that house in order, but I did
it thoroughly. I am noted for doing things thoroughly. At the end of
the time it was clean from garret to cellar. Alexander Abraham made no
comments on my operations, though he groaned loud and often, and said
caustic things to poor Mr. Riley, who hadn’t the spirit to answer back
after his drubbing by William Adolphus. I made allowances for Alexander
Abraham because his vaccination had taken and his arm was real sore;
and I cooked elegant meals, not having much else to do, once I had got
things scoured up. The house was full of provisions--Alexander Abraham
wasn’t mean about such things, I will say that for him. Altogether, I
was more comfortable than I had expected to be. When Alexander Abraham
wouldn’t talk I let him alone; and when he would I just said as
sarcastic things as he did, only I said them smiling and pleasant. I
could see he had a wholesome awe for me. But now and then he seemed to
forget his disposition and talked like a human being. We had one or two
real interesting conversations. Alexander Abraham was an intelligent
man, though he had got terribly warped. I told him once I thought he
must have been nice when he was a boy.
One day he astonished me by appearing at the dinner table with his hair
brushed and a white collar on. We had a tiptop dinner that day, and
I had made a pudding that was far too good for a woman hater. When
Alexander Abraham had disposed of two large platefuls of it, he sighed
and said,
“You can certainly cook. It’s a pity you are such a detestable crank in
other respects.”
“It’s kind of convenient being a crank,” I said. “People are careful
how they meddle with you. Haven’t you found that out in your own
experience?”
“I am NOT a crank,” growled Alexander Abraham resentfully. “All I ask is
to be let alone.”
“That’s the very crankiest kind of crank,” I said. “A person who wants
to be let alone flies in the face of Providence, who decreed that folks
for their own good were not to be let alone. But cheer up, Mr. Bennett.
The quarantine will be up on Tuesday and then you’ll certainly be let
alone for the rest of your natural life, as far as William Adolphus and
I are concerned. You may then return to your wallowing in the mire and
be as dirty and comfortable as of yore.”
Alexander Abraham growled again. The prospect didn’t seem to cheer him
up as much as I should have expected. Then he did an amazing thing. He
poured some cream into a saucer and set it down before William Adolphus.
William Adolphus lapped it up, keeping one eye on Alexander Abraham lest
the latter should change his mind. Not to be outdone, I handed Mr. Riley
a bone.
Neither Alexander Abraham nor I had worried much about the smallpox. We
didn’t believe he would take it, for he hadn’t even seen the girl who
was sick. But the very next morning I heard him calling me from the
upstairs landing.
“Miss MacPherson,” he said in a voice so uncommonly mild that it gave me
an uncanny feeling, “what are the symptoms of smallpox?”
“Chills and flushes, pain in the limbs and back, nausea and vomiting,”
I answered promptly, for I had been reading them up in a patent medicine
almanac.
“I’ve got them all,” said Alexander Abraham hollowly.
I didn’t feel as much scared as I should have expected. After enduring a
woman hater and a brindled dog and the early disorder of that house--and
coming off best with all three--smallpox seemed rather insignificant. I
went to the window and called to Thomas Wright to send for the doctor.
The doctor came down from Alexander Abraham’s room looking grave.
“It’s impossible to pronounce on the disease yet,” he said. “There is
no certainty until the eruption appears. But, of course, there is every
likelihood that it is the smallpox. It is very unfortunate. I am afraid
that it will be difficult to get a nurse. All the nurses in town who
will take smallpox cases are overbusy now, for the epidemic is still
raging there. However, I’ll go into town to-night and do my best.
Meanwhile, at present, you must not go near him, Peter.”
I wasn’t going to take orders from any man, and as soon as the doctor
had gone I marched straight up to Alexander Abraham’s room with some
dinner for him on a tray. There was a lemon cream I thought he could eat
even if he had the smallpox.
“You shouldn’t come near me,” he growled. “You are risking your life.”
“I am not going to see a fellow creature starve to death, even if he is
a man,” I retorted.
“The worst of it all,” groaned Alexander Abraham, between mouthfuls of
lemon cream, “is that the doctor says I’ve got to have a nurse. I’ve got
so kind of used to you being in the house that I don’t mind you, but the
thought of another woman coming here is too much. Did you give my poor
dog anything to eat?”
“He has had a better dinner than many a Christian,” I said severely.
Alexander Abraham need not have worried about another woman coming in.
The doctor came back that night with care on his brow.
“I don’t know what is to be done,” he said. “I can’t get a soul to come
here.”
“_I_ shall nurse Mr. Bennett,” I said with dignity. “It is my duty and
I never shirk my duty. I am noted for that. He is a man, and he has
smallpox, and he keeps a vile dog; but I am not going to see him die for
lack of care for all that.”
“You’re a good soul, Peter,” said the doctor, looking relieved, manlike,
as soon as he found a woman to shoulder the responsibility.
I nursed Alexander Abraham through the smallpox, and I didn’t mind it
much. He was much more amiable sick than well, and he had the disease
in a very mild form. Below stairs I reigned supreme and Mr. Riley and
William Adolphus lay down together like the lion and the lamb. I fed
Mr. Riley regularly, and once, seeing him looking lonesome, I patted him
gingerly. It was nicer than I thought it would be. Mr. Riley lifted his
head and looked at me with an expression in his eyes which cured me of
wondering why on earth Alexander Abraham was so fond of the beast.
When Alexander Abraham was able to sit up, he began to make up for the
time he’d lost being pleasant. Anything more sarcastic than that man in
his convalescence you couldn’t imagine. I just laughed at him, having
found out that that could be depended on to irritate him. To irritate
him still further I cleaned the house all over again. But what vexed him
most of all was that Mr. Riley took to following me about and wagging
what he had of a tail at me.
“It wasn’t enough that you should come into my peaceful home and turn
it upside down, but you have to alienate the affections of my dog,”
complained Alexander Abraham.
“He’ll get fond of you again when I go home,” I said comfortingly. “Dogs
aren’t very particular that way. What they want is bones. Cats now,
they love disinterestedly. William Adolphus has never swerved in his
allegiance to me, although you do give him cream in the pantry on the
sly.”
Alexander Abraham looked foolish. He hadn’t thought I knew that.
I didn’t take the smallpox and in another week the doctor came out and
sent the policeman home. I was disinfected and William Adolphus was
fumigated, and then we were free to go.
“Good-bye, Mr. Bennett,” I said, offering to shake hands in a forgiving
spirit. “I’ve no doubt that you are glad to be rid of me, but you are no
gladder than I am to go. I suppose this house will be dirtier than ever
in a month’s time, and Mr. Riley will have discarded the little polish
his manners have taken on. Reformation with men and dogs never goes very
deep.”
With this Parthian shaft I walked out of the house, supposing that I had
seen the last of it and Alexander Abraham.
I was glad to get back home, of course; but it did seem queer and
lonesome. The cats hardly knew me, and William Adolphus roamed about
forlornly and appeared to feel like an exile. I didn’t take as much
pleasure in cooking as usual, for it seemed kind of foolish to be
fussing over oneself. The sight of a bone made me think of poor Mr.
Riley. The neighbours avoided me pointedly, for they couldn’t get rid
of the fear that I might erupt into smallpox at any moment. My Sunday
School class had been given to another woman, and altogether I felt as
if I didn’t belong anywhere.
I had existed like this for a fortnight when Alexander Abraham suddenly
appeared. He walked in one evening at dusk, but at first sight I didn’t
know him he was so spruced and barbered up. But William Adolphus knew
him. Will you believe it, William Adolphus, my own William Adolphus,
rubbed up against that man’s trouser leg with an undisguised purr of
satisfaction.
“I had to come, Angelina,” said Alexander Abraham. “I couldn’t stand it
any longer.”
“My name is Peter,” I said coldly, although I was feeling ridiculously
glad about something.
“It isn’t,” said Alexander Abraham stubbornly. “It is Angelina for me,
and always will be. I shall never call you Peter. Angelina just suits
you exactly; and Angelina Bennett would suit you still better. You must
come back, Angelina. Mr. Riley is moping for you, and I can’t get along
without somebody to appreciate my sarcasms, now that you have accustomed
me to the luxury.”
“What about the other five cats?” I demanded.
Alexander Abraham sighed.
“I suppose they’ll have to come too,” he sighed, “though no doubt
they’ll chase poor Mr. Riley clean off the premises. But I can live
without him, and I can’t without you. How soon can you be ready to marry
me?”
“I haven’t said that I was going to marry you at all, have I?” I said
tartly, just to be consistent. For I wasn’t feeling tart.
“No, but you will, won’t you?” said Alexander Abraham anxiously.
“Because if you won’t, I wish you’d let me die of the smallpox. Do, dear
Angelina.”
To think that a man should dare to call me his “dear Angelina!” And to
think that I shouldn’t mind!
“Where I go, William Adolphus goes,” I said, “but I shall give away the
other five cats for--for the sake of Mr. Riley.”