|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 31
He turned to his hostess and her friend. While they talked together Burns
regarded Amy Mathewson, his long-time associate, with renewed wonder, and
presently found himself addressing her from an entirely new point of
view. This fair girl with the graceful head and the glowing blue eyes
could not possibly be the sedate young woman who was accustomed to hand
him instruments and sutures, ligate arteries, and attend to various minor
matters from the other side of his operating-table. He wondered why he
had never before noticed how much real individuality she possessed, nor
how really attractive she was of face and person. He decided afresh that
his wife was the most wonderful woman in the world, to be able to see at
a glance that which had escaped his attention for so long, and he
congratulated Miss Mathewson, in his mind, on the possibilities he for
the first time saw ahead of her. Clearly after all she was a woman, not a
machine!
The party went out to dinner, and Burns looked to see his friend enjoy,
as he thought he must, the cleverly planned and deliciously cooked meal
which came, perfectly served, upon the table. It was such a dinner as he
himself delighted in, unostentatious but satisfying, with certain
touches, here and there, calculated to tempt the most capricious
palate,--such as he shrewdly judged Leaver, in his presumably lowered
state of vitality, to possess.
But to his surprise and dismay the guest barely touched most of the
dishes, and ate so sparingly of others that Burns felt himself, with his
hearty, normal appetite, a gormandizer. Nobody made any comment whatever
upon Dr. Leaver's lack of appetite, but all three noted, with growing
concern, that there were moments when he seemed to keep up with an
effort. Instinctively the others made short work of the later courses,
and felt a decided relief when it became possible to leave the table and
return to the living-room.
By a bit of clever management Ellen was able to put the guest's tall form
into a corner of the big davenport, among the blue pillows, where he
could receive more support than was possible in any other place. After a
little he seemed less fatigued, and charmed them all with his pleasant
discourse. Burns himself was soon summoned to the office. He would not
allow Miss Mathewson to take up her duties there, though she followed him
to offer eagerly to run home and change her attire.
"Not a bit of it," Burns assured her, in the hall. He regarded her with
mischief in his eyes. "Cinderella isn't due at home till the clock
strikes twelve," he whispered. "Besides,--the Prince isn't in his usual
form to-night. He may need her services as nurse at any minute, judging
by his appearance."
That sent her back into the room, as he knew it would. It was, for her,
a wonderfully interesting hour which followed, for Dr. Leaver and Mrs.
Burns fell to discussing life in a certain great city, as both knew it
from quite different standpoints, and she herself had only to listen and
observe. She thought the pair upon the davenport made a striking picture,
the woman in her rich and still youthful beauty, her smile a thing to
wonder at, her voice low music to the ear; the man, though no older than
Burns, worn and grave, yet with a strangely winning personality, and eyes
which seemed to see far beneath the surface. In all Amy Mathewson's
experience with the men of Burns's profession, she had never met just
such a one as John Leaver. The sense of his personal worth and dignity
was strong upon her as she watched him; his evident fatigue and weakness
appealed to her sympathies; and she forgot herself more completely than
she had imagined she could when first summoned to the unaccustomed part
she was this evening playing.
But, quite suddenly, the scene changed. In the act of speaking Dr. Leaver
suddenly stopped, put one hand to his side, and lay back against the high
end of the davenport, breathing short, his face turning pallid, ashen.
Ellen rose to her feet in dismay, but Amy Mathewson sprang toward him,
drew him with strong arms gently down to a position more nearly
recumbent, and with fingers on his pulse said in a low voice, "Call the
Doctor, please."
Ellen ran, and in a minute had Burns there, striding in, in his white
office jacket, his face tense with sudden anxiety. Leaver was panting for
breath as Burns felt his pulse and nodded at Amy, who hurried quietly
away. She was back very quickly, handing Burns a tiny instrument ready
for use. In a moment more the supporting drug was on its way to lend aid,
and Burns was bending over his friend again, laying a gentle hand upon
the damp forehead, and saying with quiet assurance:
"All right, old boy. We'll have you comfortable in no time. You were too
tired to play society man to-night, and we oughtn't to have allowed it."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|