Part 37 (1/2)
Daphne laughed happily.
”I wish I thought he liked to look at me, but--”
”But what?”
”Well--he doesn't ever seem very anxious to see me. He's invited to lots of places where he knows I will be, and he doesn't come.”
”You mean dances and things like that. Laws sakes, Daphne, ain't he got nothin' better than to go to dances and daddle around the room with a fool girl--”
”But I'm not a fool girl.”
”No one would know it by your actions sometimes.”
”I guess you are right, Miss Doane. I do act as if nothing were worth while but having a good time.”
”Yes; I seen a lot of your friends and I often think that a young man's takin' a lot of risk by marryin' one of you unless he's got nothin' to do in the world but to go to parties and to make money to buy you clothes and motorcars. But never mind--here we are. You go upstairs and get the doctor. Tell him I want to talk to him particular.”
Daphne was gone longer than was actually needed to go to an office and fetch a man to the motor car, but Drusilla only smiled when they came down.
”Did we keep you waiting? I am so sorry,” murmured Daphne.
Drusilla laughed.
”Yes, you look worried to death; but I won't scold you. You don't git much chance to talk alone together, and I suppose you wanted to discuss the latest improvements in medicine. It's a big subject and would take time.”
”Oh, no, we didn't talk at all--the doctor--was busy--”
The doctor laughed.
”What is it you want to see me about, Miss Doane?”
”I want to talk to you about mothers and their babies. I'll tell you all about it after dinner. Daphne's goin' home and you and me and John'll set down and talk it all over. John ain't no good; he ain't what you call sensible, but he's comfortable. And I got some new things on my mind.
”Yes,” broke in Daphne. ”Miss Doane has been visiting our Settlement.”
The doctor smiled.
”What do you think of it?”
Before Drusilla could reply, Daphne said: ”What do you think Dr.
Eaton calls them, Miss Doane? It's dreadful. He calls them the 'decayed gentle ladies' refuge.'”
The doctor flushed.
”Daphne--”
”Do you?” queried Drusilla, interestedly. ”Why?”