Mrs. Red Pepper by Grace S. Richmond


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Page 48

Burns looked at Leaver. The two men regarded each other with a sudden
fresh interest, a sudden wonder as to the operation of each other's
minds. The man on the bench, broken down by just such a life as he
recommended to his friend, looked at the man on the grass, unworn and
vigorous, and questioned whether, with all his virtues, Burns were really
possessed of the proper ambition. The man on the grass, aware of large
interests in his busy life, looked at the man on the bench, whose
interests were at present wholly concerned with recovering his health,
and wondered what insanity it was which bound his fellow mortal's brain
that he could not see things in their right values. There was a long
minute's silence. Then Burns, lying at full length upon his side in the
warm grass, his head propped upon his elbow, began, in a thoughtful tone:

"Ever since a period early in our acquaintance my wife and I have had
a vision before us. It was one that, curiously enough, we both had
separately first, and then discovered, by accident, that it was mutual.
The time has come when we are to carry it out. My wife has bought an old
place, in the real country, three miles out on a road that turns off from
the main road to the city. She is going to fit it up for a hospital for
crippled children, curables, mostly, though her heart may lead her into
keeping a few of the other sort, if there is no other home for them to go
to. I'm to have the distinguished honour of being surgeon to the place."

He made this final announcement in the tone in which he might have made
it if it had been that of an appointment to the greatest position the
country could have given him.

"Well," said Leaver, after a moment, his weary eyes still studying
Burns's face, "that is a fine thing for you two to do. I can see that
such an interest might well hold a man away from an ordinary city
practice. There is no children's hospital near here, then?"

"None at all. Children's wards, of course, but nothing like what ought to
be. Of course we can't take care of the surplus. It will be only special
cases, here and there, that we shall try to handle. But I'm meeting with
those every day--cases where the country air and the country fare are
almost as much a part of the cure as the surgical interference. My word!
but it will be a satisfaction to bundle the poor little chaps off to our
farm!"

His eyes were very bright. He lay smiling to himself for a minute, then
he sat up.

"In a month," said he, "we shall be ready for business. I have four
little patients waiting now for the place. On three of them I'm going to
operate at once. On the fourth--_you_ are."

Again the two pairs of eyes met--hazel eyes confident and determined,
brown eyes startled, stabbed with sudden pain. Burns held up his hand.

"Don't say a word," he commanded. "I'm merely making an assertion. I'm
willing to back it up by argument, if you like, though I'd rather not.
In fact, I'd much rather not. I prefer simply to make the assertion, and
let it sink in."

But Leaver would speak. "You forget," he said, bitterly, "that I've put
all that behind me. I told you I should never operate again. I meant it."

"Yes, you meant it," said Burns comfortably. "A man means it when he
swears he'll never do again something that has become second nature to
him to do. He'll do it--he's made that way. You will do this thing, and
do it with all your old grip and skill. But I'm not going to discuss it
with you. Some day, if you are good, I'll describe the case to you. It's
one you can handle better than I, and it's going to be up to you."

He got to his feet, ignoring the slow shaking of Leaver's downbent head.
"By the way," he said, with a glance at the cottage, now a mere blur in
the oncoming twilight, "have you heard of the young photographer who is
to sweep down upon us and make wonderful, dream-like images of us all,
for good hard cash and fame? A friend of my wife's: a girl who looks
twenty-five, but is a bit more, I am told. A remarkably good-looking, not
to say fascinating, person with a grandmother still more fascinating--at
least to me. They are to come as soon as this rookery can be made
habitable."

"Miss Mathewson spoke of it. It will be an interesting event to the
village, I should suppose. But I shall not be among the victims of the
lady's art. I may as well tell you, Red--I must get away next week."

Burns wheeled upon him. "What's that you say?"

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sat 7th Nov 2026, 8:51