Sunny Slopes

by Ethel Hueston

  CHAPTER VIII

  REACTION

  "Will you have this woman?"

  David's clear, low voice sounded over the little church, and the bridelifted confident, trusting eyes to his face. The people in the pewsleaned forward. They had glanced approvingly at the slender, dark-eyedgirl in her bridal white, but now every eye was centered on theminister. The hand in which he held the Book was white, blue veined,the fingers long and thin. His eyes were nervously bright, with faintcircles beneath them.

  David looked sick.

  So the glowing, sweet faced bride was neglected and the groom receivedscant attention. The minister cleared his throat slightly, and theservice went smoothly on to the end.

  But the sigh of relief that went up at its conclusion betokened not somuch satisfaction that another young couple were setting forth on thetroubled, tempting waters of matrimony, as that David had finishedanother service and all might yet be well.

  Carol, half way back in the church, had heard not one word of theservice.

  "David is an angel, but I do wish he were a little less heavenly," shethought passionately. "He--makes me nervous."

  The carriage was at the door to take the minister and his wife to theDaniels home for the bridal reception, but David said, "Tell him totake us to the manse first, Carol. I've got to rest a minute. I'mtired to-night."

  In the living-room of the manse he carefully removed the handsome blackcoat in which he had been graduated from the Seminary in Chicago, andin which a little later he had been ordained for the ministry andinstalled in his church in the Heights. Still later he had worn it athis marriage. David hung it over the back of a chair, saying as he didso:

  "Wearing pretty well, isn't it? It may be called upon to officiate inother crises for me, so it behooves me to husband it well."

  Then he dropped heavily on the davenport before the fireplace, withCarol crouching on a cushion beside him, stroking his hand.

  "Let's not go to the reception," she said. "We've congratulated them adozen times already."

  "Oh, we've got to go," he answered. "They would be disappointed.We'll only stay a few minutes. Just as soon as I rest--I am played outto-night--it is only a step."

  They slipped among the guests at the reception quietly andunobtrusively, but were instantly surrounded.

  "A good service, David," said Mr. Daniels, eying him keenly. "You makesuch a pretty job of it I'd like to try it over myself."

  "Now, Dan," expostulated his anxious little wife. "Don't you pay anyattention to him, Mrs. Duke, he's always talking."

  "I know it," said Carol appreciatively. "I never pay attention."

  "You need a vacation, Mr. Duke," broke in a voice impulsively.

  "I know it," assented David. "We'll take one in the spring,--and youcan help pay the expenses."

  "You'd better take it now," suggested Mrs. Baldwin. "The church canget along without you, you know."

  But the laugh that went up was not genuine. Many of them, in theirdevotion to David, wondered if the church really could get alongwithout him.

  David gaily waved aside the enormous plate of refreshments that waspassed to him. "I had my dinner, you know," he explained. "Carolisn't neglecting me."

  "He had it, but he didn't eat it,--and it was fried chicken," saidCarol sadly.

  A few minutes later they were at home again, and before Carol hadfinished the solemn task of rubbing cold cream into her pretty skin,David was sleeping heavily, his face flushed, his hands twitchingnervously at times.

  Carol stood above him, gazing adoringly down upon him for a while.Then shutting her eyes, she said fervently:

  "Oh, God, do make David less like an angel, and more like other men."

  Early the next morning she was up and had steaming hot coffee ready forDavid almost before his eyes were open.

  "To crowd out that mean little cough that spoils your breakfast," shesaid. "I shall keep you in bed to-day."

  All morning David lounged around the house, hugging the fireplace, andcomplained of feeling cold though it was a warm bright day late inApril, and although the fire was blazing. In the afternoon he took offhis jacket and loosened his collar.

  "It certainly is hot enough now," he declared. "Open the windows,Carol,--I am roasting."

  "That is fever," she announced ominously. "Do you feel very badly?"

  "Well, nothing extra," he assented grudgingly.

  "David, if you love me, let's call a doctor. You are going to have thegrippe, or pneumonia, or something awful, and--if you love me, David."

  The pleading voice arrested his refusal and he gave the desiredconsent, still laughing at the silly notion.

  So Carol sped next door to the home of Mr. Daniels, the fatherly elder.

  "Mr. Daniels," she cried, brightly happy because David had consented toa doctor, and a doctor meant health and strength and the end of thathateful little cough. "We are going to have a doctor see David. Whatis the name of that man down-town--the one you think is so wonderful?"

  Mr. Daniels gladly gave her the name, warmly approving the move, but heshook his head a little over David. "I am no pessimist," he said, "butDavid is not just exactly right."

  "The doctor will fix him up," cried Carol joyously. "I am so relievedand comfortable now. Don't try to worry me."

  David looked nervous when Carol gave him the name of the physician shehad called.

  "He is a Catholic,--and some of the members think--"

  "Of course they do, but I am the head of this house," declared Carol,standing on tiptoe and assuming her most lordly air. "And DoctorO'Hara is the best in town, and he is coming."

  "Oh, all right, if you feel like that about it. I don't suppose hewould give me strychnine just because I am a Presbyterian minister."

  "Oh, mercy!" ejaculated Carol. "I never thought of that. Do yousuppose he would?"

  But David only laughed at her, as he so often did.

  When Carol met the doctor at the door, she found instant reassurance inthe strong, kind, clever face.

  "It's a cold," she explained, "but it hangs on too long, and he keepsrunning down-hill."

  The doctor looked very searchingly into David's pale bright face. AndCarol and David did not know that the extra joke and the extravagantcheeriness of his voice indicated that things looked badly. They tookgreat satisfaction in his easy manner, and when, after a briefexamination, he said:

  "Now, into bed you go, Mr. Duke, and there you stay a while. Get asubstitute for Sunday. You've got to make a baby of a bad cold and petit a little."

  David and Carol laughed, and when the doctor went away, and David wassafely in bed, Carol perched up beside him and they had a stirring gameof parcheesi. But David soon tired, and lay very quietly all evening,eating no dinner, and talking very little. Telephone messages from"the members" came thick and fast, with offers of all kinds of temptingviands, and callers came streaming to the door. But Father Danielsnext door turned them every one away.

  "He can't talk any more," he said in his abrupt, yet kindly way. "He'sjust worn out talking to this bunch,--that's all that ails him."

  Next day the doctor came again, gave another examination, and saidthere was some little congestion in the lungs.

  "Just do as I have told you,--keep the windows up, drink a lot of freshmilk, and eat all the raw eggs you can choke down."

  "He won't eat anything," said Carol.

  "Let him fast then, and he'll soon be begging for raw eggs. I'll seeyou again to-morrow."

  When he returned next day there was a little shadow in the kind eyes.David lay on the cot, smiling, and Carol stood beside him.

  "How do you feel to-day?"

  "Oh, just fine," came the ready answer.

  But the shadow in the doctor's eyes deepened.

  "The meanest part of a doctor's work is handing out death blows tohope," he said. "But you two are big enough to take a hard knockwithout flinching, and I won't need to beat around the bush. Mr. Duke,yo
u have tuberculosis."

  David winched a little and Carol clutched his hand spasmodically, yetthey smiled quickly, comfortingly into each other's eyes.

  "That does not mean that your life is fanning out, by any means,"continued the doctor in his easy voice. "We've got a grip on thedisease now. You are getting it right at the start and you stand asplendid chance. Your clean life will help. Your laughing wife willhelp. Your confidence in a Divine Doctor will help. Everything is onyour side. If you can, I think I should go out west somewhere,--to NewMexico, or Arizona. It is low here, and damp,--lots of people chasethe cure here, and find it, but it is easier out there where the air islight and fine and the temperature is even, and where doctorsspecialize on lungs."

  "Yes, yes, indeed, we shall go right away," declared Carol feverishly."Yes, indeed."

  "Keep on with my treatment while you are here. And get out as soon asyou can. Stay in bed all the time, and don't bother with manyvisitors. I don't need to tell you the minor precautions. You bothhave brains. Be sure you use them. Now, don't get blue. You've stillgot plenty to laugh at, Mrs. Duke. And I give you fair warning, whenyou quit laughing there's the end of the fight. You haven't any otherweapon strong enough to beat the germs."

  It was hard indeed for Carol to see anything to laugh at just thatmoment, but she smiled, rather wanly, at the doctor when he went away.

  There was silence between them for a moment.

  At last, she leaned over him and whispered breathlessly, "Maybe it isreally a good thing, David. You did need a vacation, and now you arebound to get it."

  David smiled at her persistent philosophy of optimism.

  Again there was silence. Finally, with an effort he spoke. "Carol,I--I could have thanked God for letting us know this two years ago.Then you would have escaped."

  "David, don't say that. Just this minute I was thanking Him in myheart because we didn't know until we belonged to each other."

  She lifted her lips to him, as she always did when deeply moved, andinstinctively he lowered his to meet them. But before he touched herhe stopped, stricken by a bitter thought, and pushed her face awayalmost roughly.

  "Oh, Carol," he cried, "I can't. I can never kiss you again. I haveloved to touch you, always. I have loved your cool, sweet, powderyskin, and your lips,--I have always thought of your lips as a crimsonbow in a pale pink cloud,--I--I have loved to touch you. I have alwaysadored your face, the look of it as well as the feel of it. I have_loved_ to kiss you."

  Carol slipped an arm beneath his head and strove to pull his hand awayfrom his face.

  "Go on and do it," she whispered passionately. "I am not afraid. Youkissed me yesterday and it didn't hurt me. Kiss me, David,--I don'tcare if I do get it."

  He laughed at her then, uncertainly, brokenly, but he laughed. "Oh, noyou don't, my lady," he said. "You've got to keep strong and well totake care of me. You want to get sick so you'll get half the petting."

  Like a flash came the revelation of what her future was to be. "Oh, ofcourse," she cried, in a changed voice. "Of course we must becareful,--I forgot. I'll have to keep very strong and rugged, won't I?Indeed, I will be careful."

  Then they sat silent again.

  "Out west," he said at last dreamily. "Out west. I've always wantedto go west. Not just this way, but--maybe it is our chance, Carol."

  "Of course it is. We'll just rest and play a couple of months, andthen come back better than ever. No, let's get a church out there andstay forever. That will be Safety First. Isn't it grand we have thatmoney in the bank, David? Think how solemn it would be now if we wereclear broke, as we were before we decided to economize and start abank-account."

  David nodded, smiling, but the smile was grave. The littlebank-account was very fine, but to David, lying there with the wreck ofhis life about him, the outlook was solemn in spite of it.