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Page 42
She did it obediently; and then stood waiting for further orders.
"You are now inside this magical primrose ring; and you said yourself,
a moment ago, there was no telling what might happen inside. Keep very
still; don't move, don't speak. Remember you mustn't uncover your
eyes, or the spell will be broken. Hark! Can you hear something--some
one coming nearer and nearer and nearer?"
For the space of a dozen breaths nothing could be heard in Ward C; that
is--unless one was tactless enough to mention the sound of two
throbbing hearts. One fluttered, frightened and hesitating; the other
thumped, steady and determined. Then out of the darkness came the
striking of the hospital clock on the tower--twelve long, mournful
tolls--and one of the House Surgeon's arms slipped gently about the
shoulders of Margaret MacLean.
"Dearest, the Love-Talker has turned so completely human that he has to
say at the outset he's not half good enough for you, But he wants
you--he wants you, just the same, to carry back with him to his
faery-land. It will be rather a funny little old faery-land, made up
of work and poverty--and love; but, you see, the last is so big and
strong it can shoulder the other two and never know it's carrying a
thing. If you'll only come, dearest, you can make it the finest, most
magical faeryland a man ever set up home-making in."
Another silence settled over Ward C.
"Well--" said the House Surgeon, breaking it at last and sounding a
trifle nervous. "Well--"
"I thought you said I wasn't to move or speak, or the spell would be
broken?"
"That's right, excellent nurse--followed doctor's orders exactly." He
was smiling radiantly now, only no one could see. Slowly he drew her
hands away from her eyes and kissed the lids. "You can open them if
you solemnly promise not to be disappointed when you see the
Love-Talker has stepped into an ordinary house surgeon's uniform and
looks like the--devil." With a laugh the House Surgeon gathered her
close in his arms.
"The devil was only a rebelling angel," she murmured, contentedly.
"But I'm not rebelling. Bless those trustees! If they hadn't put us
both out of the hospital we might be jogging along for the next ten
years on the wholesome, easily digested diet of friendship, and never
dreamed of the feast we were missing--like this--and this--and--"
Margaret MacLean buried her face in the uniform with a sob.
"What is it, dearest? Don't you like them?"
"I--love--them. Don't you understand? I never belonged to anybody
before in all my life, so no one ever wanted to--"
The rest was unintelligible, but perfectly satisfactory to the House
Surgeon. He held her even closer while she sobbed out the tears that
had been intended for the edge of Bridget's bed; and when they were
spent he wiped away all traces with some antiseptic gauze that happened
to be in his pocket.
"I will never be foolish again and remember what lies behind to-night,"
said Margaret MacLean, knowing full well that she would be, and that
often, because of the joy that would lie in remembering and comparing.
"Now tell me, did they make you go, too?"
"The President told me, very courteously, that he felt sure I would be
wishing to find another position elsewhere better suited to my rising
abilities; and if an opportunity should come--next month, perhaps--they
would not wish in any way to interfere with my leaving."
"Ugh! I--"
"No, you don't, dearest. You couldn't expect them to want us around
after the things we magnanimously refrained from saying--but so
perfectly implied."
"All right, I'll love them instead, if you want me to, only--" And she
puckered her forehead into deep furrows of perplexity. "I have kept it
out of my mind all through the evening, but we might as well face it
now as to-morrow morning. What is going to happen to us?"
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