The Carter Girls' Week-End Camp

by Nell Speed

  CHAPTER XX

  DR. WRIGHT TO THE RESCUE

  Nan went sadly off. What should she do? Dr. Wright was expected at thecamp that afternoon and she determined to speak to him and ask him oncemore to interfere in the Carters' affairs. Even if the young physiciandid bore her mother, it was necessary now for him to step in. If onlyshe would not carry out her threat of speaking to her husband!

  Dr. Wright treated the matter quite seriously when Nan told him of themix-up.

  "Certainly your father must not be worried. It is quite necessary thathe shall be kept out of the city for many months yet and no one musttalk money to him. Can't your mother see this?"

  "She doesn't seem to."

  "But Helen understands, surely!"

  "I--I--think Helen thinks father is so much better that we can--wecan--kind of begin to spend again," faltered Nan, whose heart misgaveher, fearing she might be saying something to obstruct the course oftrue love which her romantic little soul told her was going on betweenHelen and Dr. Wright. At least she could not help seeing that he wascasting sheep's eyes at Helen, and that while Helen was not castingthem back at him she was certainly not averse to his attentions.

  "Begin to spend again! Ye gods and little fishes! Why, if bills begin tobe showered in again on Robert Carter I will not answer for his reason.He is immensely improved, but it is only because he has had no worries.Where is your mother?" His face looked quite stern and his kind blueeyes were not kind at all but flashed scornfully.

  "She is in bed."

  "Is she ill?"

  "Well, not exactly--she--she--is kind of depressed."

  "Depressed! Depressed over what?"

  "Oh, Dr. Wright, I hate to be telling you these things! It looks asthough I did not love my mother to be talking about her, but indeed Ido. Douglas and I are so miserable about it, but we--we--somehow wefeel that we are a great deal older than mumsy. We know it is hard onher--all of this----"

  "All of what?"

  "This living such a rough life--and having to give up society and ourpretty house and everything."

  "Of course it is hard, but then aren't all of you giving up things,too?"

  "But we don't mind--at least we don't mind much. It is harder on Helenand mother because--because they--they are kind of different. And theydon't understand money."

  "And do you understand it?" laughed the young doctor.

  "Well, Douglas and I understand it better. We know that when you spenda dollar you haven't got a dollar, but Helen and mother seem to thinkif you haven't got it you can charge it. I think they are sufferingwith a kind of disease--chargitis."

  George Wright was looking quite solemn as he made his way to the cabinwhere Mrs. Carter had taken to her bed. He was not relishing the idea ofhaving to speak to the wife of his patient, but speak he must. He knewvery well that Nan would never have come to him if matters had notreached a crisis. How would Helen take his interference? He could notfool himself into the belief that what Helen said and thought made nodifference to him. It made all the difference in the world. But duty wasduty and since he was ministering to a mind diseased, he must guard thatmind from all things that were harmful to it, just as much as a doctorwho is treating an open wound must see that it is kept aseptic. IfRobert Carter's wife was contemplating upsetting the good that had beendone her husband, why, it was his duty as that husband's physician towarn her of the result.

  Mrs. Carter was looking very lovely and pathetic, acting the invalid.An extremely dainty and costly negligee accentuated her beauty. Hercabin room, while certainly not elegant, was perfectly comfortable andkept in spotless condition by the devoted Susan. There were no evidencesof rough living in her surroundings and the hand which she extendedfeebly to welcome the physician could not have been smoother or whiterhad it belonged to pampered royalty.

  "Ah, Dr. Wright, it is kind of you to come in to see me." She smiled awan smile.

  "I am sorry you are ill. What is troubling you?" He felt her pulse, andfinding it quite regular, he smiled, but did not let her see hisamusement.

  "I think it is my heart. I can make no exertion without great effort."

  "Any appetite?"

  "Oh, very little--I never eat much, and I am so tired of chicken! Friedchicken, broiled chicken, stewed chicken!"

  "Yes, spring chicken is a great hardship, no doubt," he said rathergrimly.

  "I like broiled chicken very much in the spring, but I never did carevery much for chicken in the summer. People seem to have chicken so muchin the summer. I never could see why."

  "It might be because it is cheaper when they are plentiful," hesuggested, finding it difficult to keep the scorn he felt for thisfoolish little butterfly out of his voice.

  "Perhaps it is, I never thought of that."

  Helen came in just then, bringing a bouquet of garden flowers that Mr.McRae had sent to the ladies of the camp.

  "I might as well tackle them together," he thought, taking a longbreath.

  "Ahem--are your plans for the winter made yet?" he asked Mrs. Carter.

  "Why, the girls--at least Douglas and Nan, have some ridiculous schemeabout taking a cottage in the suburbs and letting those people keep myhouse. I don't see why I need call it my house, however, as I seem tohave no say-so in the matter," she answered complainingly. "Helen and Iboth think it would be much more sensible to go into our own house andbe comfortable. Douglas is very unreasonable and headstrong. The paltrysum that these tenants pay is the only argument she has against ouroccupying the house ourselves."

  "Excuse me, Mrs. Carter, but as your husband's physician, I may perhapsbe able to point out the relation of the steady, if small, income fromthe house and his very serious condition."

  "I--I thought he was almost well."

  "No, madam, much better but not almost well! Do you think that if hewere almost well he would sit passively down and let his daughtersdecide for him as he is doing now? Has he not always been a man ofaction, one to take the initiative? Look at him now, not even askingwhat the plans are when you leave the camp, which you will have todo in the course of a few weeks. Can't you see that he is still in avery nervous state and the least little worry might upset his reason?No troubles must be taken to him. He must not be consulted aboutarrangements any more than Bobby would be. His tired brain is beginningto recover and a few more months may make him almost himself again,but," and Dr. Wright looked so stern and uncompromising that Helen andher mother felt that the accusing angel had them on the last day, theday of judgment, "if he is worried by all kinds of foolish littlethings, there will be nothing for him but a sanitarium. I am hopingthat he will be spared this, and it rests entirely with his familywhether he is spared it or not."

  "Oh, Doctor, I shall try!" and poor little Mrs. Carter looked very likeBobby and not much older. "I have been very remiss. I did not know."

  "Another thing," and the accusing angel went on in a stern voice. He hadheard all of this before from this little butterfly woman and he feltthat he must impress upon her even more the importance of guarding herhusband from all financial worries. "If when he's well he finds bills tobe paid and obligations to be met, he will drop right back into thecondition in which I found him last May when I was called to the case.You remember," and he turned to Helen, "his troubled talk about lambchops and silk stockings, do you not?"

  Helen dropped the gay bouquet and covered her face with her hands. Greatsobs shook her frame. Remember! Could she ever forget it? And yet shehad been behaving as though she had forgotten it, only that morninginsisting she must have a new suit before she could get a job. What wasDr. Wright thinking of her? He had spoken so sternly and looked soscornful.

  His scorn was all turned to concern now. He had not meant to distressHelen so much, only to impress upon her the importance of not lettingfinancial worries reach her father. He looked at the poor strickenlittle woman who seemed to have shrivelled up into a wizened littlechild who had just been punished. Had he been too severe in hisharangue? Well, nothing short of se
verity would reach the selfish heartof Mrs. Carter. But Helen--Helen was not selfish, only thoughtless andyoung. He had not meant to grieve her like this.

  "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

  "It seems awful that we should be so blind that you should have to saysuch things to us," said Helen, trying to control her voice.

  "I know I am a worthless woman," said the poor little motherplaintively. "Nobody ever expected me to be anything else and I havenever been anything else. I don't understand finance--I don't understandlife. Please call Douglas and Nan here, Helen. I want to speak to them."

  "Let me do it," said the young doctor eagerly. He felt that running awayfrom the scene of disaster would be about the most graceful thing hecould do just then.

  "I believe I should like you to be here if you don't mind."

  Nan and Douglas were quickly summoned, indeed they were near the cabin,eagerly waiting to hear the outcome of the interview that they well knewDr. Wright was having with their mother.

  "My daughters," began the little lady solemnly, "I have just come to therealization of my worthlessness. I want all of you to know that I dorealize it, and with Dr. Wright as witness I want to resign in a wayas--as--as a guardian to you. Your judgment is better than mine andafter this I am going to trust to it rather than to my own. I knownothing about money, nothing about economy. Douglas, you will have to behead of the family until your poor father can take up his burdens again.Whatever you think best to do, I will do. Treat me about as you treatBobby and Lucy--no, not Lucy--even Lucy's judgment is better than mine."

  Douglas was on her knees by the bedside, holding her mother in her arms.

  "Oh, mumsy! Mumsy! Don't talk that way about yourself. It 'most killsme."

  Nan buried her face in her hands. She was sure she felt worse than anyof them because she had given voice to exactly the same truth concerningher mother in her conversation with Douglas and Helen.

  Dr. Wright would have been glad if he had never been born, but since hehad been he would have welcomed with joy an earthquake if it had onlycome at that moment and swallowed him up. Would Helen ever forgive him?He had no idea he was having such an effect on Mrs. Carter. She hadseemed to him heartless and selfish and stubborn. She was in realitynothing but a child. She was no more responsible than Bobby himself.

  Mrs. Carter, childlike, was in a way enjoying herself very much. Had shenot been punished and now were not all the grownups sorry for her andpetting her? She had announced her policy for ever after and now nothingmore was ever to be expected of her. Life was not to be so hard afterall. Her Robert was still in a way ill, but he would get well finally,and now Douglas would take hold and think for her. Her girls would lookafter her and take care of her. She regretted not having a debutantedaughter, as she well knew that society was one thing she could do, butsince that was to be denied her, she would be the last person in theworld to make herself disagreeable over her disappointment. A saccharinepolicy was to be hers on and after this date. Unselfishness andsweetness were to be synonymous with her name.

  All of the daughters kissed her tenderly and Dr. Wright bent over herfair hand with knightly contrition.

  How pleasant life was!

  A tray, more daintily arranged than usual, was brought in at suppertime, and under a covered dish there reposed the coveted sweetbreads.