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Page 78
"Do you like sending out bills so well as that?" Ellen asked,
incredulous.
"I like anything that means being at work again, without having to play
that I'm a lady of leisure at any moment that anybody wants my company.
I like to have things methodical and systematic. I don't even mind
sending out bills, when I know they should be sent."
She stirred about the office, getting out her typewriter and oiling it,
while the two talked of various things. Her whole manner was consistent
with her words: she seemed to be full of the very joy of living. It
occurred to Ellen once to wonder if, by any possibility, this could be
the result of expectation of future continuance of her friendship with
Leaver. But something happened presently which, though but a simple
incident enough, and all in the day's routine, made any such supposition
seem most unlikely.
The telephone bell rang. Ellen saw Amy's face change at the first sound
of her questioner's voice, with that subtle change which sometimes tells
more than the person engaged in this form of communication realizes.
"Yes, Dr. Burns," she said. "Yes ... Yes ... Yes ... Yes, I can
have everything ready in an hour ... I will ... I won't forget one
thing.... Yes ... Good-bye!"
Not an illuminating set of replies, given at long intervals which
evidently spelled instructions from the other end of the wire. But Amy's
voice was eager, her concise replies by no means veiled that fact, and
Ellen could read, as plainly as if Amy had said it, that the voice which
spoke to her was the one of all voices, as it had been for so long, which
could give the commands she loved to obey.
She turned from the desk and looked at Ellen with the same animated
expression of face. But even as she explained, she was taking instruments
from their cases, setting out certain hand-bags, and preparing to fill
them.
"It is an emergency case--operation--out in the country. Impossible to
take the patient to the hospital; everything must be made ready on the
spot. Dr. Burns is to come for me in an hour. He will let me stay with
the case. It's work, Mrs. Burns; real work again, at last!"
"You extraordinary girl! A d�butante, going to a party again, after
enforced confinement at home, couldn't be gayer about it. I knew you
loved your work, but I didn't know you loved it like that!"
"Didn't you?" Her hands moving swiftly, she seemed not to stop and think
what was going to be wanted, she went from one preparation to another
with swift, sure knowledge. "I'm not sure I did, myself, until I had to
stop and take what was really just a long vacation, with hardly a thing
to do. Vacations are very pleasant--for a while--but they may last too
long."
"Evidently Dr. Leaver thought so, too. He seemed ready enough for work
again."
"Of course he was. And work--and only work--will put him quite back where
he was before the breakdown. I fully believe, Mrs. Burns, that labour is
a condition of healthy life. And of the two evils, too much labour or too
much idleness, the latter is the greater."
"You make me feel a drone," Ellen declared.
Amy gave her a quick, understanding glance.
"You? Oh, no, Mrs. Burns. You do the prettiest work in the world, and the
most necessary."
"But yours is fine--wonderful."
"Not fine, nor wonderful. Dr. Burns's work is that. Mine is
just--supplementary."
"But absolutely essential. How many times has he told me what he has owed
you all these years for perfection of detail. He says he doubts if he
himself could secure such perfection if it all depended upon his care."
Amy Mathewson bent suddenly over a strange looking instrument, whose
parts she had been examining before putting them into the bag. Her fair
cheek flushed richly. "I am glad to give him the best I can do," she
said, quietly, yet Ellen could detect an odd little thrill in her voice.
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