CHAPTER XIV
PEACE, THE GOOD SAMARITAN
Down the sloping hillside browned with the summer sun strolled Peace oneafternoon late in August, gathering the purple foxgloves which wavedinvitingly in the breeze. It was one of those rare days of waningsummer, clear, beautiful and cool, with just a hint of autumn haze inthe air; and it cast its magic spell over the bare-headed, flower-ladenmaid, wandering dreamily through the crisp, crackling grass, with noparticular destination in view, no particular thought in mind. She hadset out an hour before with Cherry and Allee as her companions, but hadwandered away from them without being aware of it, and was now somedistance from home, still busy pulling the gorgeous stems of bloom,still unconscious of her loneness, still lost in her own realms offancy.
This Peace was one few people knew. Allee was most familiar with thebrown-eyed dream-child, the little family at the parsonage were quitewell acquainted with her, and occasionally Gail caught a fleetingglimpse of that hidden spirit, but to the rest of the little world inwhich she lived she was a bright-eyed, gay-hearted little romp, whoseefforts to lend assistance to others were always leading her intomischief, oftentimes with unhappy results.
So it is no wonder that busy Dr. Bainbridge was surprised when hediscovered her in this strange mood as he came puffing and panting upthe hill toward town, for she was so completely lost amid her dreamsthat she did not see him nor hear his brusque greeting until he steppeddirectly in her path and clutched her arm. Then she started as ifsuddenly awakened from a sleep, and exclaimed, "Why, Dr. Bainbridge,what do you mean by making me jump so? I nearly lost my skin! I neversaw you at all. Where did you come from--the clouds?"
"No, miss. If I had been there you would have seen me before this, forif ever anyone was walking in the clouds, it was you just this minute.Come along, I want you, dreamer. Can you do me a favor, a big one?"
"'Pends upon what it is," answered Peace, thoroughly awake now.
He laughed at the judicious tone of voice and the familiar cant of thecurly brown head, and answered promptly, "I want you to play GoodSamaritan for a little while, be nurse for one of my patients--"
"Nurse?" She looked at him with wide-open eyes, secretly wonderingwhether he knew what he was talking about.
"Yes, ma'am, nurse!" he thundered. "Annette Fisher is sick, very sick,and I have told her mother time after time that she must not be leftalone, yet in spite of all my cautions, that red-headed ignoramus hastaken the rest of the caboodle and gone off to town, leaving Annette allalone in the house until the father gets home tonight. The child's feverhas been soaring sky-high for days, and I was just beginning to think Ihad it in control and could pull her through when that oldtermagant-gossip of a mother, who doesn't deserve to have chick orchild, hikes off to spend the afternoon with relatives in the city for achance to look up bargains at The Martindale. What are embroideries anddress goods compared with the life of a child? Won't she get a piece ofmy mind the next time I lay eyes on her?" So angry and indignant was theold doctor that he had wholly forgotten himself, and spoke as he wouldnever have thought of doing under different circumstances.
Peace brought him to the earth by agreeing heartily, "Well, I would 'f Iwas you, and I'd give her a good big piece, too. I'll nurse Annette ifyou want me to. Shall I give her a bath and dose her with medicine everyfew minutes, like we did mother? Does she need to be wrapped up in wetrags or painted with _irondye_? Or do you want me to feed her _grool_and broth?"
"You don't have to do a single thing but stay with her and keep herfrom fretting until I can get someone from the village to go down there.I gave her a bath just now myself, and she has taken her medicine--all Iwant her to have for the present. She isn't to eat a thing, but she candrink all the milk she wants, and occasionally have a little water ifshe asks for it. Now remember, Peace. She is too sick to pay attentionto much of anything, but sometimes she is fretful and talks a good deal.Try to be as quiet as possible yourself,--don't say things to exciteher--don't speak at all unless she wants you to. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"I'll send someone down to relieve you the minute I can get anyone.Hurry along now, and don't forget what I have said."
"All right," was the cheery response; and Peace, with a curious thrillof awe in her heart, sped down the hill as fast as her nimble feet couldcarry her.
The door of the Fisher house stood open, so, without knocking to makeher presence known, she stepped softly inside the hall, and crept up thestairs to the little, hot chamber, where thin-faced Annette lay burningwith fever. The invalid was awake, tossing fretfully among her pillows,but the instant she saw Peace in the doorway her eyes brightened, andshe called in a shrill, weak voice, "Is it really you, Peace, or has myhead turned 'round again?"
"It's really me. Dr. Bainbridge sent me up."
"That's funny. He wouldn't let you or any of the other girls come when Iasked for you before. Did you bring all those flowers for me?"
"Yes," Peace answered readily, glancing down at the huge bouquet in herarms, which she had entirely forgotten. "Where shall I put them? No,don't try to tell me; I'll find a dish myself."
"Would you please bring me a drink, too?" Annette asked hesitatingly.
"Sure!"
"Fresh from the well?"
"Yes."
Peace disappeared down the creaking stairs again, returning quickly witha dripping dipper full of sparkling, ice-cold water from the well, andthe sick child drank feverishly, sighing as she relinquished the cup,"That's awful good. If only it would stay cold all the time! But thenext time I want a drink it is warm and horrid, and ma says she can't bealways chasing to the well just to get me some water. Harry won't,either. Pa ain't here but a little while night and morning, and Isabelis too little to fetch it. Set the flowers here on the chair where I cansee them good. When ma comes home she'll likely throw them out. She saysshe can't see the good of cluttering up the house with dishes of weedslike that."
"Your mother is an old _turnacrank_,--Doctor says so," muttered Peaceindignantly, as she tugged at the heavy jar of foxgloves she hadarranged with artistic care.
"What did you say?" asked Annette, querulously.
Peace suddenly remembered the doctor's instructions. "I say I know howto keep water cold. Gail used to do it for mother on hot days. I'll weta rag and wrap the dipper in that and set it in the window where thewind will blow on it."
"Will that make it keep cool?"
"Yes, as long as the rag is wet. There is quite a little wind today,too, and that helps."
"Is it cool out-doors?"
"Yes."
"Oh, dear! I wish I could go out under the trees. It is so hot in herecooped up like I am."
Peace bit her tongue. How easy it was to forget the doctor's directions!Twice already she had said things which excited the poor, sick prisoner,whom she had been told to keep quiet. A happy inspiration leaped intoher thought, and moving the jar of delicate blossoms closer to the bed,she slipped a spray into Annette's hand, saying, "S'pose we _minagine_these flowers are trees. They would make a lovely forest, wouldn't they?I often wish the trees had pretty flowers."
"Apple trees have," said Annette thoughtfully.
"That's so!" was the surprised ejaculation. "I forgot all about thefruit trees. All of them have flowers, but I like the apple-blossomsbest, don't you?"
"Yes, they are so cool looking and so sweet and smelly."
"That's what I like about them most. When I go to the moon I wear adress made of apple-blossoms and--"
"When you go to the moon?" repeated Annette, looking bewildered andwondering if the queer thoughts which the doctor called delirium werecoming back to haunt her again.
"Oh, of course, I really don't go, but I like to s'pose what it would belike if I could go there. After Allee and me go to bed at night,sometimes the moon comes and shines in at our window and we talk to it.I don't care about the man-in-the-moon very much, though Allee likeshim. She says he must be so lonely up there by himself all the time
thatshe doesn't see how he can keep on smiling so. But I love the lady inthe moon."
"The lady in the moon?"
"Well, we call her the moon lady. We like to think she is a beautiful,beau-ti-ful lady, with long, pale yellow hair that pretty nearly dragswhen she walks. It would drag if she didn't wear such big tails on herskirts. That's the kind of hair I wish I had instead of kinky, woollycurls. Hers isn't a bit curly, but just falls back from her face likeJennie Munn's after she has had it braided for a long time. And ittrails out behind her like a--a cloud. Her dress is white stuff, andshe never has it starched; it's just soft and shiny and swishy, andseems to b'long just to her. Oh, she is the prettiest lady, Annette!"
"What color are her eyes?" asked the invalid, much interested in thepicture Peace was drawing.
"Blue, just like Hope's, only you don't think of them being blue whenyou look at the moon lady--they 'mind you of stars. I think they arestars, and she wears a star in her hair."
"Does she have a house to live in?"
"Not a house, but a palace, made of soft-looking, sparkly stones thatflash like diamond dust, and inside it is white and still,--the kind ofa still that makes you feel dreamy and nice. And there are fountainseverywhere, with cool water splashing out of the top of them. They aremade of white marble--the fountains are, I mean--and so are the_pillows_ of the palace on the outside, where the moon lady walks in hergarden."
"Is there a garden in the moon?"
"In my moon there is, and--"
"Ma says the moon is made of green cheese, and is full of maggots."
"I heard that story, too, and I look for them first thing every time Igo there, but I haven't found any yet. Big, white Easter lilies growalong the paths, and lilies-of-the-valley blossom the whole year round,and water lilies make the lake almost white sometimes."
"Oh, a lake, too! How nice!"
"The moon lady's lake is the prettiest I ever saw. The water is alwayssilv'ry, just like our lakes look when the moon shines down on them. Youknow, Annette, don't you?"
"Yes, the moon was shining one time when I went to Lake Marion with pato hear the band, and we rowed around in a little boat and listened tothe music."
"That's just what the moon lady does when we go to see her, only herboats are green-pea pods, and the sails are apple-blossom petals. Wedon't have to row; the boats just float of themselves, and we pick waterlilies or listen to the music--"
"What kind of music?"
"Oh, sometimes the moon lady sings by-low songs, and sometimes it's justthe frogs singing in the bottom of the lake."
"Oh, do you like frogs' croaking?"
"If I have been good I like it awfully well, but if I've made Gail oranyone sorry, I don't want to listen to the frogs, for they keep saying,'Don't do it again, don't do it again,' till it makes me mis'rable. Thefrogs in the moon never say such things, though, and I like to listen tothem. Sometimes we call across the water to hear the echoes answer; andsometimes we let the moonbeams light on our hands and hair and dresses,and talk to them."
"Talk to the moonbeams? How funny!"
"Why, our moonbeams are lovely little fairies, with wings likedragon-flies, and shiny, silv'ry gowns; and whenever they get tired offlying about they settle down and glow like fireflies. They b'long tothe moon lady and are nice fairies. They make sugar stars and moon-icefor us to eat."
Peace clapped her hand abruptly over her mouth. Suppose Annette shouldask for something to eat! But the sick child merely held the spray offoxgloves nearer her face and inquired, "What is that? Ice-cream?"
"No; it's shaped like icicles and has kind of a sourish taste, eitherlemon or strawberry, and it doesn't melt until you get tired of it. Thenit's all gone. And it's the same way with moonbeamade. Allee made upthat name from lemonade. It is just a heap of foam that tastes like thenorth-west wind and is cool and nice."
"S'posing things is a queer game, ain't it?" murmured Annette, drowsily.
"It's lots of fun, and sometimes when we go to sleep we dream aboutthem,--the places we visit in the moon and the--"
"The water and lilies and fountains and cool things?"
"Yes, or the mountains, where the fairies and goblins live, or theforests, which belong to the brownies and elves, or the valleys, wherethe sunbeams play, or the caves, where the wind-voices hide, or--I dob'lieve she's asleep. Yes, sir! Both eyes are tight shut, and she hasdropped the foxglove she was holding so hard."
Softly Peace dropped back into her former position upon the floor,hardly daring to breathe for fear of waking the little slumberer, forhad not the doctor said she was a very sick child, and that she must bekept as quiet as possible?
At thought of the doctor she began to wonder why he had not sent thewoman from the village as he had promised to do. Already the sun wassinking low in the west, and no one had come to watch over the invalid.Perhaps he had forgotten, perhaps someone was dreadfully sick and he hadbeen called away before he could find a nurse for Annette. Perhaps--thebrown head nodded gently, the long, dark lashes fluttered slowly overthe somber brown eyes, and Peace, too, was fast asleep, curled upagainst the narrow bed, where the sick child lay in a dreamless,refreshing slumber. The sunset faded from the sky, twilight deepenedinto dusk, and the stars came out in their pale glory, but both the GoodSamaritan and her patient were unconscious of it all.
In the little brown house among the maple trees great anxiety brooded.Peace had not come home with her sisters from their flower-gatheringexpedition, and no one in town had seen her. The whole neighborhood wasaroused, and a search party was just being organized when the doctor'scarriage drove up to the gate, and the physician, angry, dismayed andalarmed, hurried up the path as fast as his avoirdupois would permit,flung open the screen and called imperiously, "Miss Gail, girls, any ofyou! It's all my fault! Peace is down at the Fisher house watching overAnnette. I sent her there this afternoon while I went after a woman tostay with the child, and have just this minute heard that Grandma Colesprained her ankle on the way there and had to crawl back home again.Mrs. Fisher, the big idiot, is moseying up the road now, well satisfiedwith her bargains. I passed her and her tribe a piece back and stoppedlong enough to tell her what I thought of her. Now pile in and I'll takeyou back with me for that little sister of yours."
He had caught up a little shawl from the hat-rack as he talked, andthrowing this over Gail's shoulders, he bundled her out of the house andinto his buggy before she had recovered from her astonishment at hisoutburst; and after a moment of furious riding behind the lively bayhorse, she found herself stumbling up the dark stairs in the unlightedFisher house, at the heels of the panting, puffing, wrathy doctor. Fromsomewhere he produced a lamp, and soon the dim rays of light dispelledthe gloom of the place, and she stood beside him, looking down into thepale face of Annette asleep among her pillows, and the rosy one ofsmiling Peace, huddled in an uncomfortable bunch on the floor.
"What a picture!" murmured the doctor huskily, leaning over to touch thedamp forehead and feel the pulse of his little patient. "This is thefirst natural sleep she has had for days. Bully for Peace! I confess Iwas worried about leaving her here in the first place. I was afraid shewould fret Annette into a worse fever than she already had. I'd havegone crazy if I'd had any notion that the child must stay here all theafternoon, with only Peace to look after her. Excuse me if I seem moreconcerned about Annette's welfare than over Peace's long absence andyour fright, Gail. I've had a big battle to pull her through, and I waswild when I found that fool mother had gone off and left her alone.Didn't expect to be gone long, and here it is _hours_! There, I won'tstorm any more, but we'll wake Peace up and take her home."
He shook the child gently by the shoulder, and as the sleepy eyesfluttered open they saw only Gail bending over her. "It's all right,Gail," the child said softly, still remembering her charge. "Dr.Bainbridge asked me to be a good _sanatarium_ over Annette while that_negrogrampus_ of a mother was hunting bargains of embroid'ries and hewas hunting a sure-enough nurse. Oh, there is the doctor hims
elf! IsAnnette all right? She talked a lot at first, but I told her about mymoon lady, and pretty soon she went fast asleep."
"Annette is doing splendidly, Dr. Peace, and I am tickled to death atthe good work you've done. Run along with Gail now. I'll be down in aminute to drive you home."