Part 20 (1/2)
”Poor Dr. Maccanfrae,” said Florence. ”He is the dearest, kindest, best intentioned man in the world. Think of the good he does among the poor.”
”O, I know all about that, but that's no reason why he should lecture me like a child about going to bed early and taking exercise.”
”Perhaps he believes more in such medicine than in drugs. Don't you think yourself that it is some such _regime_ that you need?”
”Don't you begin to lecture me, too,” said Marion, with a sigh. ”Life is hard enough without your making it worse.”
”I shall not lecture you, I promise, but,” she continued, taking Marion's hands and pulling her up from the lounge, ”as your nurse, I must see that you have a change. Come, tell me what are the plans for to-day.”
”Why, there's the luncheon at Mrs. Ryder's.”
”Good, and what else?”
”Why, we dine at the Beemers' to-night.”
”And to-morrow?”
”We go to the races on Walter Sedger's drag, and dine at the Was.h.i.+ngton Park Club.”
”Is your husband going?”
”Of course.”
”How does he leave his business?”
”I make him.”
”Very well, then this morning before luncheon we take a walk as far as Lincoln Park.”
”I can't walk that far, Florence.”
”You are going to walk that far,” said Florence, authoritatively. ”I am your nurse, and I insist upon it.”
”But I shall be ill all day.”
”Never mind, you will get over it this afternoon when we read some Thackeray, and to-morrow morning you and I will do the marketing.”
”You are crazy, Florence, I do believe.”
”I never was more sane in my life. Come, I am in earnest. You would have me here, you know, and I shall make myself so disagreeable that you will be thankful when I am gone.”
”O, Florence, how can you be so rough?” said Marion, as Florence dragged her toward the door.
”There, now,” said Florence, after they had pa.s.sed into the hall, ”go and put on your hat. I brought mine with me.”
”Just think of the heat, Florence,” said Marion as she disappeared up the stairs.
In a few minutes Marion returned looking brighter already, Florence thought, and the two women were soon strolling along the lake sh.o.r.e talking over the countless trivialities women find to talk about, and at tea-time, after a day of Florence's nursing, Marion was forced to admit that she had pa.s.sed an unusually cheerful day. Roswell Sanderson came in just as they were finis.h.i.+ng tea, and after taking a seat and declining a cup of the beverage, he said in a careless manner: ”By the way, Marion, an old friend of yours came into the bank just before I left.”
”Who?” asked Marion.