Dorothy Dale's Camping Days

by Margaret Penrose

  CHAPTER XXI

  AT THE SANITARIUM

  When Dorothy recovered consciousness she lay on a white cot, by anopen window, and the strange nurse sat beside her.

  "Where am I? What am I here for?"

  "Your doctor is away, he will be back to-morrow--soon," the nursecorrected herself. "Then perhaps you--may go out."

  "But why am I here? This is a hospital, and I am not ill."

  "No, not exactly ill," and Mary Bell had her own very serious doubtsabout the condition of the young patient--never had she seen ademented girl so perfectly sane. "But it is best for you to await yourown doctor's orders," she finished.

  "My own doctor? What is his name, please?"

  "Dr. Ashton. Do you remember him?"

  "I have never heard the name before," replied Dorothy, looking abouther anxiously at the sanitary appointments of the white room. "Isuppose this is a sanitarium for nerves."

  "You have been here long enough to know that much," said the nursewith a smile, "but you seem to have a new kind--of nerves."

  "I have only been here a few hours, I should judge, but it did seem aneternity. Are they not going to send for my friends? They will bedistracted. I have been away from them for so long."

  Again that uncertain look came into the face of the nurse. Surely ifthis girl had been demented she must now be very much better. Her talkwas entirely rational.

  And Dorothy was thinking: "Surely if they believe I am crazy they mustbe crazy themselves! The sounds around here are enough to shake anyone's nerves."

  Some one was singing. The shrill voice rent the air like some weirdcry from a lost mind. It made Dorothy shiver.

  "You think I am--demented," she asked finally. "But there is somegreat mistake. I am Dorothy Dale of--Dalton. I was camping atEverglade--and I have had a dreadful time of it since I fell, and waspicked up by that old farmer."

  Dorothy's eyes were full. She had made up her mind, since her escapefrom the Hobbs house, that she must wait--wait until those around hersaw their mistake. At any rate, it was something to be amongintelligent people, if they were nurses and doctors, and as theyplainly believed her to be an escaped patient she must wait until someone came to identify her. But now it was very hard, and she was very,very lonely, and very nervous with those poor demented people singing,sighing, laughing and calling from all over the place.

  "I am sorry Miss Bennet had to go away, before I saw you," said thenurse, vaguely. "It would have been better----"

  "Miss Bennet?"

  "Yes, your regular nurse."

  "I never had a nurse since I had the measles," said Dorothy, and shereally felt inclined to laugh. "Would you mind if I sat up at thewindow? I feel perfectly strong now, and I want to remember what theblessed world is like."

  "Of course you may sit by the window," replied Miss Bell, assistingDorothy into a robe. "And I don't blame you for wanting to see out ofdoors. Sometimes I hate being a nurse."

  "I should think you would. It is enough to turn one's own head. Oh, Ido wish some one who knows me would come! My father and all my folkswill be frantic. Is there anything more dreadful than being lost inthe Maine woods!"

  "You are the strongest sick girl I ever saw," declared the nurse. "Ihope I have made no mistake."

  "Well, indeed you have," replied Dorothy. "I tell you I am not andhave never been a patient at any institution. I thought there was sometest of mentality--the eye, isn't it?"

  "But nurses cannot make tests," answered Miss Bell. "We have to waitfor the dear professional, all-powerful doctors to do that. This is myfirst day here, and I think I am going to be almost as lonely as youare."

  "I am sorry for you, but _you_ may _leave_ if you wish. It is quitedifferent in my case!"

  "My dear, if you can only be content to-night, I promise you some onewill come to-morrow. They have sent for your mother--Mrs. Harriwell."

  "Oh, the mother of the lost girl? Well, she will know. But I must stayall night in this dreadful place--all night?"

  "I promise not to leave you. They will send another nurse to relieveme, but I will decline to go. Somehow you have almost convinced methere is a mistake."

  "Thank you," replied Dorothy. "Perhaps it will be best not tocomplain."

  She was looking out at the beautiful grounds and thinking of the dearones whose hearts must be torn with anguish for her. If only she couldtelegraph!

  "Do you think I could send a message?" she asked, "to my friends--tomy cousins, at Everglade?"

  "I am afraid not--until after the doctor sees you. You see, some otherpatient--a man named Morrison--is blamed for having helped you toescape."

  "Morrison?" repeated Dorothy. "That is the name of the man who is toblame for all this trouble; that is, we blamed him for inducing afriend of mine to leave our camp."

  "He has a faculty for inducing people to leave," said Miss Bell. "Wehope we will soon be able to catch him--then it is not likely that hewill get another chance to exercise that faculty. Three patients leftthe day that you did."

  "The day that _she_ did," corrected Dorothy. "Well, nurse, since youare so kind to me, we must be friends, and I must not make you anyunnecessary trouble."

  "One has to be kind to you," said the nurse, putting her cheek closeto Dorothy's. "I must comb out your hair. It has been neglected."

  "Yes, but that will be easily fixed up again. Such matters seemscarcely to trouble me now. There are so many bigger things to thinkof."

  The nurse got comb and brush, and started to smooth out the long,light tresses.

  "What is that scratch?" she asked, stopping to look at a mark onDorothy's neck.

  "It may have been the mark left there by Mrs. Hobbs' parrot," saidDorothy, "or it may be one of the scratches I got when I fell over thecliff. You see, I have been having a dreadful time. But when it is allover I will have something worth talking about, to tell at camp. Ihope you will call upon us there. You would not be lonely if you knewour boys."

  "But if you are not Mary Harriwell, what can have become of her?"asked the nurse with sudden conviction. "And I was sent to find her!"

  "But you were directed to find me, were you not?" said Dorothy, in herquick way of helping one out in distress. "I do not see how you couldbe held responsible."

  "But the girl--if she is still at large, she may be dead or injured,"said Miss Bell, showing more and more that she did not believe Dorothyto be the person wanted in the sanitarium. "I must ask--did no onehere know you--or her? Must we wait for that one doctor?"

  "At any rate," said Dorothy, "I was almost ill, and you have saved mefrom those dreadful people. My folks will never blame you."

  "If there is a mistake--I'll run away. I could never stand thedisgrace," and the nurse buried her face in her hands.

  "It seems to me a perfectly plain case of mistaken identity, and asyou knew neither me nor the girl wanted, I do not see how you couldhave done otherwise than to take me. I am sure I must have looked andacted--demented."

  "I am perfectly positive that you are not now," declared Miss Bell."And no time should be lost in searching for Mary Harriwell."

  "Then I could send a message to camp? Let them know I am safe?" andDorothy sprang up with more emotion than she wished to show, for herevery move was being watched.

  "Well, the doctor will be here in the morning, and it is night now.There would be no way of straightening this out until you arepositively identified."

  "What a dreadfully lonely place Maine is! If I were near home--ornear any place where people would know me----" Dorothy was saying.

  "Miss Bell, you are wanted at the 'phone," interrupted an attendant,appearing at the door. "I'll stay until you get back."

  Miss Bell left the room, and Dorothy did not look at the young womanwho had taken her place. There was something so humiliating aboutbeing suspected of insanity!

  "How do you like it here?" asked the newcomer.

  "Very well," replied Dorothy, hurt by the sarcasm apparent in thevoice.

  "Then why di
d you run away? Didn't we treat you all right?"

  Dorothy made no reply. The nurse came over, and glanced at her keenly.

  "You look pretty fine. Guess the tramp did you good. They have sentfor your mother. She will be here to-morrow. I sent the message, and Itold her your mind had cleared up. I hope I made no mistake."

  "I hope not," replied Dorothy, feeling that it was useless to try toexplain. "I shall be glad--when she comes."

  "I'm the night attendant. I will be here in an hour to give you yourbath," said the young woman.

  "I am perfectly capable of taking my own bath," replied Dorothy, withindignation.

  "Perhaps; but we don't trust patients in the water alone. I hope youwon't give me any trouble. I'm tired to death to-night."

  "I will try not to," said Dorothy.

  Soon Miss Bell returned. Her face was flushed and she appeared greatlyexcited.

  "That _man_ Morrison has been seen," she said to the other nurse. "Andtwo more Mary Harriwells have also been seen. Strange thing how manygirls can get demented when _one_ is looked for. But the man--they sayhe is not safe."

  "Oh, he's the greatest case we ever had here. He kept us all busy ashis audience. He's stage-struck, you know," said the other.

  "Have you heard anything of a girl named Tavia Travers?" asked Dorothytimidly. "It was searching for her that brought about all thistrouble, and I wonder have they found her yet."

  "Tavia Travers," repeated Miss Bell. "A girl who says she is TaviaTravers was seen going along the road with the supposed MaryHarriwell, and of course if she is helping her hide, she may bearrested. Is she a friend of yours?"

  "Yes," sighed Dorothy. Then she fell to thinking how terrible it allwas.

  "It began the day we had the hay wagon accident," she decided. "Themoment that man crossed our path he--left his shadow, as dear fatherwould say. Well, to-morrow I must be set free again."

  The nurses were talking quietly together. A shuffling in the halldisturbed them.

  "A new patient?" asked Dorothy.

  "No, likely an old one returned," was all the information she got.