CHAPTER XIX
REVELATIONS
Summer had gone at last, its fierce heat giving way to the cool, freshdays of an early autumn. August, September, October--the months haddragged interminably by, and now it was November, bleak and chill, withgray skies and penetrating winds and sudden deluges of rain. Georgiana,sweeping sodden leaves from a wet porch after an all-night storm, lookedup to see the village telegraph messenger approaching. With her onedearest safe upon a couch within, and Stuart long since at home again,she could not fear bad news. She thought of Jeannette, who was always,in the absence of a telephone in the old manse, telegraphing herinvitations and demands.
She tore open the dispatch with a hope that it was from Jeannette, forshe had sadly missed her letters. Jeannette, indeed, it was who hadinspired the message, but its sender was her sister. Rosalie Croftonwired that Jeannette had been taken suddenly and violently ill while ona visit in New York and was to be operated upon at once; that she hadbegged Georgiana to come and to bring James Stuart with her; thatRosalie herself was dreadfully frightened and prayed Georgiana not tolose a train nor to fail to bring Stuart.
Action was never slow with the receiver of this message; it had neverbeen quicker than now. With one brief explanation to her father, she wasoff to find Stuart. Just at the dripping hedge she met him, his facetense with the shock it was plain he had received. At sight of her hedrew a yellow paper from his pocket.
"You've heard?" he cried.
"Yes; this very minute."
"There's only an hour to catch the ten-ten. You'll go?"
"Of course. I was coming to tell you. I'll be ready."
She turned again and ran back. There was much to do in the allottedhour, but with the help of Mrs. Perkins she accomplished it. When sheand Stuart were in the train, sitting side by side in the ordinary coachof the traveler who must conserve his resources, as Georgiana haddecreed, Stuart spoke the first word of comment upon the situation.
"Of course, there was nothing to do but go," he said, "after thattelegram."
"Of course not," agreed Georgiana simply.
"She was perfectly well--last week," said Stuart.
"Was she? You know I haven't seen her since they came back."
"She said she had tried every way to get you there."
"She has. I was going--when I could. You know father hasn't been as wellsince they came back in September."
"I know. But she's wanted to see you. She says she can't write half sowell as she can talk."
"No. One can't."
There was silence for some time after this exchange. Stuart seemedrestless, stirred often, once got up and stood for a long time at therear of the car, staring back at the wet tracks slipping away behind.When they had changed trains and were headed for New York, with theirdestination only a few hours away, Stuart, again in the vestibule of thecar, looking out through the closed entrance door upon a dull landscapepassing like a misty wraith through the November fog and twilight, foundGeorgiana at his elbow.
"Jimps," she was saying in her straightforward way, "what's the use ofbothering to keep it covered when it shows so plainly? Do you think Idon't understand? I do--and it's absolutely all right."
He turned quickly, and his gloomy eyes stared down into her upliftedface.
"O George!" he muttered. "Can you honestly say that?"
"Honestly. I know how it happened. You couldn't help it. It was meant tobe. The other--wasn't. That's all there is of it."
"I've been feeling such a sneak."
"Why should you? I've told you over and over----"
"I know you have. But--that last time----"
"That was really the beginning of--this other," said she with decision."You were not yourself and you didn't know just why. You thought it mustbe because you cared for me, but it was--the stirring of your first realfeeling for any woman, only you didn't recognize it. That's the wholething, Jimps, and you are not to reproach yourself, particularly nowwhen----" She faltered suddenly, and he drew a quick breath that was asif something stabbed him.
After a little he began very slowly: "It didn't really happentill--Devonshire. Those two weeks--I can't tell you. No mortal man couldhave resisted her. Yet I tried; I did, George. She didn't know aboutyou; she never has, except that we were old friends and dear ones. Shethinks the trouble is that she's a rich man's daughter and I'm only afarmer."
"You're no ordinary farmer and she knows it. Her family know it. And ifshe wants you she'll have you; they've never refused her anything."
"I haven't asked her."
"James Stuart!" It was her old tone with him. For the moment both forgotthe possible issue of this errand upon which they were going; only thevital relations at stake seemed involved.
"But--she knows," said Stuart very low.
"Of course she does."
By and by Stuart spoke again. "George, you were never quite so close tome as now."
She slipped her hand into his. "I'll stay close, dear; and I'll do all Ican for you both."
This was all they said until the first lights of the great city, milesout, were flashing past them. Then it occurred to Georgiana to put astartled question:
"Jimps, have you any address to go to? There was none in my telegram."
"I know where they are staying." Stuart put his hand into his pocket anddrew out a thick letter, upon which Georgiana recognized her cousin'shandwriting. "This came only yesterday morning."
In spite of herself the girl felt a wild thrill of pain. Her chum--herchum! And it was the first time he had ever failed to be open with her.
As if he recognized that the sight of the letter had told even moreplainly than words could have done, the degree of intercommunicationbetween the two presumable lovers, Stuart said quickly:
"I was going to tell you, George--on my word I was. I knew you didn'tcare for me--that way, but I was afraid it might hurt just the same,after all our vows. Somehow the days went by so fast and--well, you seethere was Channing. A while back I thought you were going to marry him,more than likely."
"You didn't really think it, Jimps."
"I don't know what I thought. George, we're getting in. Oh----" And hebroke off.
She knew what had happened, for with the first glimpse of the greatterminal station the things which thus far had been never really vividin her consciousness had in the twinkling of an eye taken terrible form.This was New York, and somewhere in it they were to find Jeannette,stricken in the midst of her youth and beauty and joy of life and love.If only they might find the worst of the danger safely past!
They were rushed in a taxicab to the great uptown hotel, to find there amessage saying that the whole family were at the hospital and that theywere to follow at once. In the second cab Georgiana's hand again foundStuart's and stayed there. His face was set now; he spoke not a word,and even through his glove his hand was cold to the touch. Then,presently, they were at the big, grim-looking hospital with thecharacteristic odour, so suggestive to the senses of the tragedies whichtake place there night and day, meeting them at the very portal.
It was Georgiana who made the necessary inquiries, for Stuart seemedlike one dazed with fear of that which was to come. He followed her withhis fingers gripping his hat brim with a clutch like that of a vise, hiseyes looking straight ahead. An attendant led them to a private room,and here in a moment Georgiana found herself caught in Rosalie's arms,with pale faces all about which tried to smile reassuringly but couldsucceed only in looking strained. It was Aunt Olivia who seemed mostcomposed and who made the situation clear. Uncle Thomas could only graspthe newcomers' hands and press them, while his lips shook and his speechhalted.
"It is a very peculiar case, and we had to wait till a certain surgeoncame who was out of town--Doctor Craig. They seemed to think it safer towait for him. He has had extraordinary success in similar cases. He--iswith her now, operating. My dear, I am very glad you have come--and you,Mr. Stuart. She wanted you both, and we felt that if her mind were atrest her chances-
---" But here even Aunt Olivia's long training incomposure under all circumstances deserted her, and she let Georgianaput her in a chair and kneel beside her, murmuring affection and hope.
It was a long wait--or so it seemed--interrupted only once by theentrance of a young hospital interne, who came to advise the family ofthe patient that thus far all was going well. It had proved, as wasexpected, a complicated case, and there was necessity of proceedingslowly. But Doctor Westfall had sent word to them to be of good cheer,for the patient's pulse was strong, and Doctor Craig's reputation, asthey knew, was very great.
"It's Dr. Jefferson Craig, you know," explained young Chester Croftonsoftly to Georgiana. "We're mighty lucky to get him. He only came backfrom abroad two days ago, and he was operating out of town somewherelast night. Doctor Westfall was awfully keen to have him and nobodyelse."
Georgiana knew the name, as who did not? Jefferson Craig was the manwhose brilliant research work along certain lines of surgery hadastonished both his colleagues and an attentive general public, and hisoperative surgery on those lines had disproved all previous theories asto the possibilities of interference in a class of cases until recentlyconsidered hopeless after an early stage. It was indeed subject forconfidence if Doctor Craig's skilful hands were those now at Jeannette'sservice.
But there is no beguiling such periods of suspense with assurance offormer successes in similar cases. Jeannette's family had need of alltheir fortitude for the bearing of such suspense before Doctor Westfall,the Crofton's family physician from the home city, appeared in thedoorway. He had been brought on by them when they were summoned toJeannette's bedside. He had known the girl from her babyhood, and thesigns of past tension were clearly visible in his face as he looked uponhis patient's family, though his eyes were very bright and his lips weresmiling.
"Safely over," was his instant greeting, and his hand fell with thetouch of hearty friendship on the shoulder of Mr. Thomas Crofton. "Iwouldn't come till I was sure I might bid you draw a long breath andease up on this strain of waiting."
They came around him, Aunt Olivia's lips trembling, her hand fast inGeorgiana's. Young Chester Crofton gave a subdued whoop of joy, andpretty Rosalie, scarcely out of emotional girlhood, burst intohysterical crying which she struggled vainly to keep soundless.
"Mind you," warned Doctor Westfall, wiping his own eyes though hecontinued to smile, "I don't say all danger is past. Doctor Craig wouldbe the last man to countenance such a statement. We must hold steady forseveral days before we can speak with absolute assurance. But every signpoints to safety, and certainly--certainly--well,"--he paused as if hecould not readily find words for that which he wished to say,--"if ithad been anybody but our Jeannette I should have congratulated myself onthe chance to see such a piece of work as that. I've never seenJefferson Craig operate, though I've been a fascinated follower of hisresearch and have read every word he has written. And he's astonishinglyyoung. I expected to see a man of my own age."
"We must see him, Doctor," murmured Mrs. Crofton, striving to regain hercomposure which, as is often the case, was more shaken by the assuranceof good news than by the fear of bad. "We must thank him for ourselves.He will come in to see us?"
"As soon as he is out of his gown. I'm going back for him in a minute,for I knew you would want the words from his own lips. You will likehim--you will like him immensely."
He went away again presently on this errand, an imposing figure of a manof fifty, accustomed to responsibility and able to carry it, a typicalcity physician of the class employed by the prosperous, but with certainclearly defined lines about his eyes and lips which proclaimed him alover of human nature and a sympathizer with its sufferings, in whateverclass he might find his patients.
"He's such a dear," declared Rosalie, wiping away her tears and smilingat James Stuart. "He's adored Jeannette ever since she was born, and Iknow he's been just as anxious as we were. Do cheer up, Jimmy. I'm justas sure she's going to get well now as I was sure she wasn't before."
"I don't dare to be sure," he answered in a low tone.
Georgiana looked at him and saw how shaken he still was, notwithstandingthe reassuring news. In spite of her anxiety she had been observant,ever since she entered the room, of the attitude of Jeannette's familytoward James McKenzie Stuart. It had not been difficult to come to theconclusion that for Jeannette's sake they would accept him, and that forhis own sake they were forced, in varying degrees, to like him. Howcould they help it? she wondered, when they looked at his fine, frankface and observed his manly bearing. He was college bred; he was asuccessful worker with his brain as well as with his hands, for hisfarming was scientific farming, and his results established a model forthe community. He was by no means poor--and yet--Georgiana realized thatthe change for Jeannette from a home of luxury to one of comparativeausterity of living would be a tremendous one. Well, such events hadoccurred before in the world's history, and it was by no meansunthinkable that they should occur again. As Georgiana noted the tenselook on Stuart's face, and saw the hardly abated suffering in his eyes,she said to herself that if Jeannette cared as much for him as he forher, she cared quite enough to bring her family to terms at any price.
The door opened again, as quietly as hospital doors invariably open,and Doctor Westfall advanced once more into the room, followed by ayounger man with a grave, clean-cut face and the unassuming, quietlyassured bearing of established success. As Georgiana's eyes fell uponthe distinguished surgeon whose name was Jefferson Craig she recognizedher former lodger, Mr. E. C. Jefferson. That she did not for a momentwonder what Mr. Jefferson was doing here in the famous surgeon's placewas due to the fact that her mind instantly bridged the chasm betweenthe two personalities and made them one. Yet there was a subtle, buteasily recognizable, difference between the personality of Mr. Jeffersonand that of Doctor Craig. There could be no question that here his footwas on his native heath! The literary worker had for the time vanished,and here was the man who did things with his hands and did them betterthan other men. She had long understood that he had another and moreactive place in the world than that which he had temporarily occupied assolely a writer of books. This was the place, and nothing could haveseemed less surprising than to find him in it.
At the same time, the finding occasioned a difficulty in maintaining herown composure of face and manner. She had known Mr. Jefferson; she didnot know Doctor Craig. She understood instantly, without anyexplanation, that he had chosen to be known in the obscure village byonly a part of his name, because that name was so notable that even thetwo village doctors, the old one and the young, would have recognized itand been at his heels, to the detriment of those months of rest fromsurgery which he had dedicated to the exposition of his methods uponpaper. She was quick to perceive also that it would be easy enough forDoctor Craig to prove as different from Mr. Jefferson in relation to hisacquaintance as he was different in his position in the world. What,indeed, had Dr. Jefferson Craig and little Georgiana Warne in common?Certainly far, far less than had had Mr. E. C. Jefferson and that sameGeorgiana Warne.
He did not see her at once, for the father and mother of his patient methim in the middle of the floor, and his first glance fell upon them andremained there while he spoke to them of their daughter. Even in hismanner of speaking Georgiana felt a decided difference. There was acurious crispness and succinctness of speech that marked theprofessional man, which was decidedly different from the more expandedconversational manner of Mr. Jefferson.
"Yes, she is sleeping quietly under the last effects of the anaesthetic,"he was saying when Georgiana took note of his words once more. "We willlet her sleep. It will spare her some hours of consciousness."
"Will she suffer very much when she wakes, Doctor?" was the mother'sanxious question.
Doctor Craig's smile was the very one Georgiana had first liked abouthim, for it transformed his face and gave it back the youth which hisearly responsibility in a serious profession had done its best to age."We shall not let her suffer v
ery much," he promised. "That's notnecessary nor desirable."
"When may we see her?" Mrs. Crofton pursued.
"You may all see her for a moment before she wakens, if you wish.Afterward her mother and father for just a word, and--I am told sheexpressed a very strong wish to see a young man who was on his way. Hashe come? For the sake of her contentment I have agreed to allow him aword with her by and by--just a word, if he will be very quiet."
It was Uncle Thomas who turned to beckon James Stuart forward, and thento nod at Georgiana. Immediately Stuart was presented to Doctor Craig,who, looking intently into the young man's questioning face, saidstraightforwardly: "Mr. Stuart and I have met before under quitedifferent circumstances. He knew me as a writer of books and may besurprised to find me here--as I am surprised to find him."
"Let me present you to my niece, Miss Warne, Doctor Craig," said AuntOlivia, and Georgiana was glad of the preparation the minutes had givenher, for here indeed was need for all her powers of self-control. Hereyes had no sooner looked into those which met them with such a keen andsearching glance than she was stirred to the depths. She had thought shehad known what it would be to feel those eyes upon her again, but shehad not reckoned with the effect of absence.
He made no effort to conceal the situation. "When your daughter sees menext, Mrs. Crofton," he said, without turning from Georgiana, "she willknow me, as Miss Warne and Mr. Stuart do. I spent last winter in MissWarne's home, under the name of Jefferson alone, to find time to work ata book I am writing. I gave it up sooner than I had expected, because mywork here would not be denied."
"Didn't Jean know you when she saw you before the--the operation?" criedRosalie, full of curiosity at this unexpected turn of affairs.
"She did not see me before she was anaesthetized," explained DoctorCraig; and Doctor Westfall added, patting Rosalie's hand: "It's ratherlike a story, isn't it, Rosy? Doctor Seaver, of the staff here, wastelling me this morning how Doctor Craig tried to take a year off torest and write, but how they got him back--and glad enough to have him,too. And yet we want that book. It's rather hard to have a reputation sobig it won't give you time to rest. He needed the rest, Seaver toldme."
"I had it. Six months in the country did more for me than a year intown," said Doctor Craig. He turned at the sound of a light knock uponthe door. He gave the impression of a man whose senses were every onealert.
An apologetic interne came in with a message for Doctor Craig and heleft them, with a final word of confidence and the request that they allretire to rooms at the nearby hotel where they were staying.
Georgiana found Rosalie at her side. "O George! is he really the man youhad in your house all this year? You lucky thing! Didn't you fall inlove with him instantly? Why, he's perfectly wonderful!"
"You think so now, child, because you know he's distinguished. If youhad seen him quietly working at his book you probably wouldn't havelooked at him a second time."
Rosalie studied her cousin's face so intently that Georgiana had somedifficulty in maintaining this attitude of cool detachment. The younggirl shook her head. "He couldn't have changed his face," she insisted."He's not a bit handsome, but he's stunning just the same. Oh, howastonished Jean will be when she finds out who's saved her life! When doyou suppose he'll let Jimmy Stuart see her? He'll die if he doesn't makesure she's alive pretty soon."
Under the Country Sky Page 19
