Partners (18 page)

"Oh, no," said the persistent voice. "I told you I came to take you home with me, and I intend to stick around till I get you, or at least till we can have some understanding. And this is perfectly absurd, you playing off your job this way against me. What's a job for a person in your circumstances? You have money enough without trying to earn more!"

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Webster."

"Oh, yes, you know what I mean! A girl who has just inherited an immense fortune to be pretending you have to hang around and toady to an employer! I'm about fed up with that talk, and if you don't come down at once and have a talk with me I'm going to your employer myself and tell him all about you!"

"Really, Mr. Webster!" said Dale, angry now with good cause. "You must be crazy! I can't imagine how you got this idea about a fortune, but it doesn't matter. It's not true, anyway. And I can't talk to you anymore. The sound of the telephone is worrying my patient, and I shall have to say good-bye. Please don't worry me anymore!"

"Dale, listen, I'm sending you up some flowers. They'll be there within a few minutes, and I'm putting a note in the box that you will please answer at once. I shall wait here until I receive your reply."

Dale lowered her voice discreetly.

"Please, Mr. Webster, don't send any flowers to me. I would not be able to keep them in the room. They would not be good for the patient. And as I know nothing of a fortune, I would not care to discuss the matter with you or anyone else. But even if I had been left a fortune of millions of dollars I would not give up the job I have undertaken until I have done what I promised to do. So, if you will kindly go home and forget all this I shall be deeply grateful to you."

"But I have it on very good authority--" began the man's voice again.

"Sorry," said Dale. "I can't talk any longer now. Good-bye." And she hung up, and found herself trembling from head to foot. She felt rather desperate. Was there no way to get rid of this presumptuous person? And what on earth could he mean by a fortune? Why didn't she ask him where he got the idea? But no, that would only encourage him to go on talking. If only the baby were able to be moved it would be nice if she could go somewhere else where he could not find her. But of course that was out of the question. And this place was ideal for the present needs. She must just ask the Lord to help in this matter, and then put it aside.

The baby stirred and moaned distressfully, and Dale put all other things out of her mind and went to stay by the little crib and pray for that dear baby. Oh, could it be that after all this anxiety and then the relief of knowing he was better, that the baby was failing after all, was going to have another attack of that terrible breathing, that awful choking? Oh, if Rand were only back!

She was relieved when the nurse came back. She couldn't trust her own judgment about things like pneumonia. She had had no experience.

But she could see by the serious look in the eyes of the nurse that she wasn't any too pleased with the way the baby looked, and the sound of his breathing.

The nurse went swiftly to work doing the things that had been done during the first of the baby's illness, and as Dale worked away helping as she had done before, her own fears were confirmed. The baby was really worse!

Her heart sank, and she longed for Rand to arrive. It was almost the usual time for calling up. What should she say to him if he called? Suppose he wanted to know if he was needed? Oh, if that doctor would only come!

And then the doctor came.

"What's all this?" he said appearing on the scene so quietly that Dale was startled. He gave a quick glance around, saw what the nurse was doing, then another look at the baby.

"Yes, we'll need the oxygen again. Can you call Dr. Lane, my office? Tell him to get here with all speed!"

Dale felt as if all her strength were deserting her. And she mustn't fail now. The responsibility was on her. Rand wasn't here. She must do all she could.

She called the doctor's office and gave the directions the doctor wanted his assistant to have, and then she took a prescription down to the drugstore and left it to be filled.

As she came back to the elevator she glimpsed through the doorway Arliss Webster sitting at the writing desk just inside the little reception room, writing pages and pages. Were those presently to be sent up to her? Impulsively she stepped over to the doorway and spoke hurriedly.

"I wanted to ask you please not to call me up anymore. I have a very sick person up there, and the telephone disturbs and annoys. We are in the midst of a serious crisis."

Arliss Webster looked up and beamed. He rose and came quickly toward her.

"I am so glad you are here!" he said eagerly. "I simply must have a few minutes' conversation with you!"

"That's impossible!" said Dale. "I came out on an errand for the doctor, and he is waiting!"

"Well, let him wait! A few minutes more or less will make no difference. I must tell you that I really came here to be of use to you. I can help you immensely in your new responsibilities. I feel sure that when you know all you will be glad I can help--"

"There comes the elevator!" said Dale. "I must go!" And she flew across the intervening space. Webster heard the gate clang shut, and there he stood with his half-finished letter in his hand, frowning across at the vanishing elevator. That elusive girl!

Then he frowned down at the letter he had been writing and felt that it was useless to send that to her. Yet he would not go as long as he was convinced that there was a fortune in the offing. Why the girl wanted to pretend that she knew nothing about it, he didn't understand, for he had it from an old lawyer friend in the West quite straight. He had written him to try and find out where Dale was to be reached, and it is true that his information about the extent of the fortune was vague, but it was so worded as to seem at least a million, and he didn't intend to let any million get out of hands that way. That girl
had
to marry him, if for no other reason than that she needed him to take charge of that money. She had no experience, and he was sure that if he could get sufficient time to talk with her he would be able to convince her fully that he was the husband who could help her combine happiness and business ability. So he finally settled down and added a long postscript to the letter already written, and sent it up by the porter. Then he betook himself to a comfortable hotel, and several kinds of drinks, and decided to cease operations until the sick patient should have time either to die or recover from the present stress.

But when his letter came up to the door, Dale, who answered the knock, recognized the writing and flung the letter in on her bed with a look of impatience. Would she never be free from him?

But her mind was too full of trouble now for anything as small as a mere unrelenting lover to trouble her, for the baby was really desperately sick again, and she was doing everything she could to help.

The doctor was staying all night. His face was grave. He had shed his coat and shoved up his sleeves. He was very alert, giving quick, sharp directions to the nurse. Dale didn't attempt to ask any questions. She just did what they told her to do and kept praying in her heart that God would hear.

Now and again she would remember that Rand had not called up that evening yet. She had no idea of the time. But she grew more and more anxious about it. What should she answer if he asked his usual questions of whether he was needed? At last she mustered courage to ask the doctor.

"When Mr. Rand calls up do you think I should tell him to come?"

She was watching the doctor's face anxiously as she asked. Surely she could tell what he thought of the baby by what he said, by the way he looked.

"Oh," said the doctor, "why, he
did
call up. I answered the phone. He called while you were out getting the prescription filled. He wanted to know if he should come, but I told him no, I thought everything was going to be all right. At least, I promised to let him know if there were any worse developments. I told him I thought we had things pretty well in hand and that we had help enough for all our need for tonight. I told him you were out and that as soon as the oxygen came I thought everything would be all right."

"But--is--it?" she asked breathlessly. "Isn't he worse than he has been at all?"

"Well, no, I don't know that I ought to say that. Some symptoms of course are a little more pronounced, but I think he is yielding to the treatment very nicely. His pulse is decidedly steadier. And then it isn't of course as if it were Mr. Rand's own child."

Dale's face grew troubled.

"Yes, I think it is," she said decidedly. "I promised him that if there was any danger, any great change, I would send at once for him."

"Oh, well, perhaps I should have told you at once. But I was so busy over the little chap that I didn't realize it would matter whether I told you at once. But still, I think the case is somewhat different from two hours ago. The baby is decidedly on the mend. His pulse is steadier. I think the chances are very good for him now. And it would be too bad to call Mr. Rand up from a good sleep, perhaps, and have him find out there was no real danger. I don't believe you should call him now."

Dale went and sat down. There was nothing for her to do just now, and she was terribly worried. Yet, if the doctor said no, she hardly liked to go against his advice.

The night went on, and the doctor and nurse worked steadily, and Dale stood by and did whatever she could, her anxiety sometimes increasing as she heard the little voice crying out, gasping, and she looked at the strong, steady face of the doctor.

He is a sort of a symbol of God
, she thought. And then her heart would turn to prayer again.

"Oh, my Father, save the dear baby if it is Your will. But save him to grow up a good man and to serve Thee!"

Over and over she prayed, and her face was sweet with trust. The doctor noticed it once in an interval. He saw the weary lines, and he saw her drop her face in her hands and close her eyes.

"You are very tired," he said gently. "Why don't you go and lie down for a little while? We can get along nicely without you."

She lifted her face, with a kind of shining in it, the shine of real trust, and he didn't understand it.

"Oh, no!" she said. "I'm not so tired! I couldn't lie down now, please."

"But you were so tired a minute ago you couldn't hold up your head. You had to close your eyes."

"No," she said simply with a shy smile, "I was just praying. I was asking God to make the baby get well if it was His will."

"Oh!" said the doctor, startled, abashed! This girl was different from any girl he knew. Then he added, "You know it's not such a great thing to grow up in this world and have to live a hard life, maybe full of sin and shame and trouble. Even if a kid has the best chances there are of help and environment he's liable to turn out a criminal perhaps, and this child--you don't know what he is, what he inherits. Or--do you? Is the child anything to you?"

"Oh, no! I don't know anything about him. I just happened to be there to help save his life!"

"H'm!" said the doctor, studying her earnest young face. "Well, can't you see he may be better off dead?"

"Yes," said Dale quietly, "if he's not a child of God, but that was what I was praying about, that God would save him to be a good man, and serve Him. Not that He would save him anyway, just because we wanted it, but only if God saw it best."

"Oh!" said the doctor. "Well, that's a kind of prayer I'm not acquainted with. Wish I was. That's leaving it up to God. But if that's how it's to be, Nurse, I guess you and I better get to work again and do our best. It might be possible that God wants to use us!"

The nurse stared for an instant, then veiled her surprise and went to work, with almost an awe upon her.

And the little soul whose life hung in the balance lay there and struggled for breath, and gradually began to be eased, at last falling into a sweet sleep, his breath coming with soft regularity, a relieved look on the pinched little face.

"Well," said the doctor at last, coming to stand before Dale, "I guess your baby's better. Your kind of praying seems to work. Maybe I'll get you to pray for me sometime. I need it, goodness knows. And after all this, if that young man dares to grow up wrong just send for me and I'll settle him. I'll see that he understands he's under a very special dispensation, and he
has
to go right."

Then he turned to the nurse.

"Nurse, you'd better go get some breakfast, and bring this girl a cup of coffee. She looks pretty white. I'll be back in about two hours. I've got three or four pretty sick people to look after. But I don't anticipate any more trouble here at present. Just watch that pulse, and let me know at the hospital if it seems to change. And you two better get some sleep, one at a time of course."
Then he was gone and Dale was left with a glad heart. She felt he really believed the baby was better and wasn't just talking to make talk.

She went to the little kitchenette and prepared a quick breakfast for the nurse, toast and scrambled eggs and coffee with orange juice, while the nurse was picking up and making the room tidy.

"Now," she said softly to the nurse, "you've got to eat, and then you've got to go and take a nap. There's no use protesting, for I won't have it any other way!
You've got
to be in shape if another crisis arises. And I'm not the least bit tired. I haven't done a thing worth calling work all night."

"No," said the nurse dryly, "nothing but pray! If you ask me, I'd say that was the biggest part of the work anybody did last night. To tell you the truth, there were a couple of times when I thought that baby's life was gone, and it wasn't even worth praying for, and I guess it was you who pulled him through!"

"No, it was God!" said Dale, smiling with the glory look in her eyes. "God wanted him to live, I think, and so He let him get better."

"Well, you can say it anyway you please, but he's better, and I think you deserve to rest first."