Part 8 (1/2)
THE ANGEL MEETS AN OLD FRIEND.
A few days later Mrs. O'Malligan, in her best attire, and Miss Bonkowski, also gotten up regardlessly even to an added bloom upon her cheeks, sallied forth in the face of the first snowfall, to take the Angel to St. Luke's Hospital, where, by appointment, Miss Ruth was to meet them.
When in time they reached the building and Miss Stannard led the way up to the Children's Ward, a white-capped nurse came forward between the rows of little beds each with its child occupant, her finger on her lips. ”He is so much weaker to-day,” she explained, ”I would say he had better not see any one, except that he will fret, so please stay only a few moments,” and she led them to where Joey lay, his white bed shut off from his little neighbors by a screen. His eyes were closed and a young resident physician was standing by the bed.
”We thought he was going for a while this morning,” whispered the nurse, but, low as she spoke, the Major heard. A ghost of a twinkle was in his brown eyes as they opened and sought the doctor's. ”I fooled 'em that time, didn't I, Doc?” he demanded, and one trembling lid attempted its old-time wink.
”You wanted Angel, Joey dear,” said Miss Ruth, ”and she has come to see you.”
The Angel's face was full of doubt and trouble, her eyes dark with gathering tears. Frightened at this something she half-divined, but could not understand, she drew near doubtfully. ”Angel loves her Joey, her does,” she a.s.serted, however, as if in refutation of her fears.
”Show her--my--gun,” whispered Joey, and from the table where his eyes could feast upon it, the nurse lifted a small rifle.
”The Cap'n give it ter me,--so I could be a--member of th'
Reg'ment--_now_--see? Ain't it a dandy--Angel?”
The child nodded gravely, but all the while her little breast was heaving with the gathering sobs. Seeing Miss Norma also in tears, Miss Ruth motioned her to take the Angel ahead, and leaving Mrs. O'Malligan speaking to the nurse, Miss Ruth followed slowly after, talking with the doctor as she went.
A moment later, the ward was startled by a cry from the hall beyond, ”Yosie,--Angel's Yosie!”
Miss Ruth and the doctor hurried out. In the hall in a rolling chair sat a young woman to whose knees the Angel was clinging, amid sobs and little cooing cries of joy. ”Yosie, Angel's Yosie.”
”Poor girl!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the young doctor, ”this may lead to her identification. We do not even know her name,” he explained to Miss Stannard. ”A case of paralysis,--almost helpless. Never has spoken since brought here. Yes,” in answer to Miss Ruth's eager inquiries, ”she has gotten so that she can make signs for yes and no.”
At once Miss Stannard turned to the girl, from whose lap Norma was trying to draw the expostulating Angel. ”Do you know Angel?” she asked, her hand on the child as she spoke.
There was a slight affirmative droop to the eyelids, while the gaze beneath was fixed imploringly on Miss Ruth.
”Are you Rosy?” she asked.
”My Yosie, it _is_ my Yosie!” declared the Angel, with one of her little bursts of baby rage, pulling away from Norma and stamping her foot, frantic that any doubt should exist.
At this point, Mrs. O'Malligan, who had been following in her comfortable fas.h.i.+on, unconscious of any excitement, drew near. Suddenly there was an excited cry from that lady. ”Howly Mither, an' it's Mrs.
Buckley's own sister, Rosy O'Brien, fer sure!”
The wild eyes of the sick girl turned towards Mrs. O'Malligan with signs of recognition. The doctor repeated his story.
”She must have been Angel's nurse,” said Miss Stannard.
”An' was it the darlint's nurse ye war, Rosy O'Brien?” inquired Mrs.
O'Malligan.
”Yes,” signalled the eyelids, whereupon Mrs. O'Malligan, swaying her body to and fro, and clapping her hands, burst forth suddenly, ”I say through wid it all, I say through wid it all! Ye brought the Angel choild to the Tiniment wid ye to say your sister, now, didn't ye, Rosy, me jewel?”
The good Irish lady waited for the affirmative droop from the eager eyes.
”An' maybe ye found the door locked, an' not knowin' yer sister had moved away an' Miss Johnson, what goes to the car stables a-cleanin' by the day, livin' in her room now, ye set the choild down in the empty room a-nixt to it, an' run down to ask me as to whir yer sister had gone, now, didn't ye, Rosy O'Brien?” and Mrs. O'Malligan's garlanded bonnet fell over one ear in the good soul's excitement.