Part 23 (1/2)
”I guess he's good for a week yet,” said Mr. d.y.k.eman. ”Those medical a.s.sociations do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George--a good deal higher.”
He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. Skee, hands behind him, strolled up and down the garden, wearing a meditative smile. He and Andrew d.y.k.eman had been friends for many long years.
Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after Mr. Skee's departure, making notes and lists of names. Late in the afternoon she found Vivian in the hall.
”I don't see much of you these days, Miss Lane,” she said.
The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's coming and their renewed intimacy she had rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had kept herself conspicuously out of the way.
”Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian--to my friends.”
”I hope you count me a friend?” said Dr. Bellair, gravely.
”I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so many things have been happening lately,” she laughed, a little nervously. ”The truth is, I'm really ashamed to talk to you; I'm so lazy.”
”That's exactly what I wanted to speak about. Aren't you ready to begin that little school of yours?”
”I'd like to--I should, really,” said the girl. ”But, somehow, I don't know how to set about it.”
”I've been making some inquiries,” said the doctor. ”There are six or eight among my patients that you could count on--about a dozen young ones. How many could you handle?”
”Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty in any case. A dozen would be plenty to begin with. Do you think I _could_ count on them--really?”
”I tell you what I'll do,” her friend offered; ”I'll take you around and introduce you to any of them you don't know. Most of 'em come here to the dances. There's Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll find they are mostly friends.”
”You are awfully kind,” said the girl. ”I wish”--her voice took on a sudden note of intensity--”I do wish I were strong, like you, Dr.
Bellair.”
”I wasn't very strong--at your age--my child. I did the weakest of weak things--”
Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, but a door opened down one side pa.s.sage and the doctor quietly disappeared down the other, as Mrs. St. Cloud came out.
”I thought I heard your voice,” she said. ”And Miss Elder's, wasn't it?”
”No; it was Dr. Bellair.”
”A strong character, and a fine physician, I understand. I'm sorry she does not like me.”
Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible that anyone should dislike her.
Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, and was not diplomatic enough to smooth it over, which her more experienced friend proceeded to do.
”It is temperamental,” she said gently. ”If we had gone to school together we would not have been friends. She is strong, downright, progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, better able to bear than to do. You must find her so stimulating.”
”Yes,” the girl said. ”She was talking to me about my school.”
”Your school?”
”Didn't you know I meant to have a sort of kindergarten? We planned it even before starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need me at first, and since then--things--have happened----”
”And other things will happen, dear child! Quite other and different things.”