"They all tell me that the coming year is the hardest of all with its practical training at the Ma.s.sachusetts General Hospital, and in the Manhattan Maternity in New York. I have a feeling that I am not going to enjoy the former. Nursing "grown-ups" does not appeal to me as the caring for the little flowers does. But I shall love the other. Motherhood is sacred and beautiful....
"I shall have to be very economical this year, little diary, and especially careful when I get to New York. When I paid the final installment on my tuition fee, I was frightened to find how little remained of what granddaddy left me, and what I had saved, myself. Nearly thirteen hundred dollars looked like a huge fortune to me in those days, but it is nothing at all in a city, where there is so much poverty, and there are so many appeals to one"s heart. I know that Donald--or Philip--would lend me a little money until the time when I get to earning it for myself, if I should ask them. But of course I cannot do that. Perhaps I can earn a little during my afternoons and evenings off duty. The girls say that I can shampoo and manicure as well as a professional. Yes, I will try to do that this year."
January 15th, 1917.
"Thank goodness my worries about finances are almost over!
"The last few months have been simply terrible, and the hardest part of all, I think, has been my not being able to give anything to the number of splendid causes which so touch the sympathies these dark days. Perhaps I gave too much before; but I am not a bit sorry, especially now that some of the seed which I cast upon the waters is soon to bear golden fruit for me. I never believe the pessimistic people who say that those who receive charity are never really grateful, and now I know that they are wrong. Jimmy"s father has been so appreciative of my pitifully small presents to them, that sometimes he has cried over them, and I knew that he was in earnest when he promised to repay me as soon as he possibly could. Now the chance has come. I was there yesterday and he said that he had been thinking about me just before I appeared.
"It seems that he sells stock, and has just obtained a wonderful position as agent, or whatever they call it, for a new copper mine which he says is better than the "Calumet and Hecla."
"He explained to me all about that one and showed me in the paper how high it was selling now--for $550 a share. He is the sole representative for all of New England, and he says that the company is at present selling its stock only to special friends in order to "let them in on the ground floor." The shares are only ten dollars apiece and are sure to be worth a hundred, or more, very soon, because of the war. It seems almost impossible! I told him that I had only about a hundred dollars in the world, but that, if he really felt that he wanted to do me a favor, I might "invest" it (that word sounds quite impressive, doesn"t it?) but that I should have to think it over, first. I remembered what Donald had told me about asking a man"s advice--especially Philip"s--in money matters. Perhaps it would have been wiser if I had done so before.
"I asked him this afternoon if he knew anything about the King Kopper Kompany, and he said that it was a "get rich proposition" and that he had sunk a good deal of his own money into some just like it. I wanted to ask him more, but we were interrupted. However, I know that he is very well-to-do, so he must have made money in them and certainly I need to get rich quick. I"m going to make the investment to-morrow."
March 11th.
"Stung! I hate slang, but sometimes nothing else is quite so expressive. I thought that I was getting to be very wise, but, oh, what a little ignoramus I have been. And to think that I thought I was following Philip"s advice, and did not realize what he really meant until I read a story about a man who was called "Get-Rich-Quick Wallingford." Now I"d rather die than tell him that I have lost practically all of my worldly goods!"
Finally, late in May, is an entry, longer than any of its predecessors, and the last for many a day. Rose made it seated in the soft moonlight which came through the window of her hospital room, after her roommate had fallen asleep.
"I am in a strange mood to-night, little diary, and not quite sure whether I want to laugh or cry--indeed, I think that my heart has done both to-day. I don"t feel like going to sleep, but perhaps I will be able to if I get the many thoughts out of my mind and down on paper--now they are like so many little imps beating against my brain with hammers.
"Surely I should be happy at the thought that to-morrow is to carry me to my goal at the top of the mountain path which Donald described. In twelve hours I shall (D. V.) be a graduate nurse; but, now that the journey is almost an accomplished fact, I positively shiver when I think of the nerve of that child who was I five years ago and who, blessed with ignorance, made up her mind to become one, or "bust"--that is the way I put it, then. Friends have sometimes told me that they didn"t see how I had the courage to attempt it; but I tell them, truthfully, that it isn"t courage when one tackles a thing which she--or he--doesn"t know is difficult to do, and that few things are insurmountably difficult which she tackles with confidence (which is as often the result of ignorance as of faith in one"s own power). So how can I take any credit for succeeding?
"It has been hard work, of course, and I know that I must have failed if every one had not been so good to me, and, above all, if G.o.d had not meant me to succeed. I have never forgotten that night when the "reverend" opened my eyes to the knowledge that I am His partner in working out my life. Dear Mr. Talmadge! I am ashamed that I stopped writing to him, so long ago, yet I know that he is still my friend, although we do not see each other. That is the beauty of true friendship--it is a calm and constant star, always in its place against the time when we want to lift our eyes to seek its light. I know that it is the same with Donald.
"When I think of him to-night, and realize that he cannot be near me in my little hour of triumph to-morrow, it is hard for me to keep back the tears. Dear G.o.d, bless him and bring him happiness--with Miss Treville.
"I cannot help feeling worried about Donald, for, although his letter makes light of his illness, I have a troublesome presentiment that he is worse than he will acknowledge. He is the kind to spend every ounce of his wonderful vitality without thought of self, and the two and a half years during which he has been laboring so hard, and so effectively, must have drained even his great strength. Slight, wiry people are like the willows that bend easily, but return to normal quickly, after the stress of storm has ended; but, when big ones--like Donald--break, it is like the fall of a mighty oak.
"Still, this cloud, like all clouds, has its bright lining. He is coming home, just as soon as he is able to make the trip, so, although I shall miss him dreadfully to-morrow, it will not be many weeks before I shall see him again.
"But this is not all that is troubling me, diary, and if I were not quite sure that no one but I would ever look inside your covers, I would not confide it even to you.
"I have a present, a wonderful present,--and I do not think that I ought to keep it. Help me make up my mind. When P. gave it to me this afternoon, he said that it was just a little remembrance for my graduation and that he hoped I would accept it as the gift of a semiofficial guardian, just as I would if Donald himself were giving it to me. I did take it in that spirit; but, when I found a moment to steal away and open the wrapper, and beheld a beautiful morocco case containing a gold watch with my initials engraved on the case, my heart almost stopped beating. This was his "little remembrance." Of course it is something that I shall need in my work, for it has a second hand, but he must have guessed that I would be troubled by such an expensive gift, for he tried to make light of it by enclosing a foolish little rhyme, which I must copy so that I shall not forget it.
"When it is time to take hour pulse You"ll find a use for what is in it,[A] (On second thoughts, I"d like to add I wish you"d take mine every minute.)"
"Conventions are so puzzling, little diary, that I don"t know what I ought to do. Somehow, I feel quite sure that the Superintendent wouldn"t approve, for a doctor should not be making presents to a pupil nurse; yet P. has been so kind that I hate to think of hurting his feelings by giving it back. Besides, I love it ... and it is engraved R. W. Then, too, if I should return it, he might think that I didn"t credit him with having done it while acting in Donald"s place as my guardian, and if it was not that thought which prompted him, why ... Oh, I don"t know what to do!
"Worse still, Dorothy Roberts came up unexpectedly and saw the watch. Of course she wanted to know from whom it came and I answered, on the impulse, "From my guardian." I"m sure that she believes that it was a present from Donald and therefore perfectly proper, for I have told her all about his relationship to me, and it hurts me to think that I have been guilty of a lie. Of course it wasn"t one in actual words, perhaps; but I had the spirit to deceive, and now I can"t confess without involving P. and she might think that he is in ... Oh, I can"t write it, for of course he isn"t. How could he be? No, it was just a natural act of his generous heart, because he knew that I was without relatives to give me a graduation gift.
"I hope that I sleep my uncertainties away, for to-morrow must hold nothing but sunshine and smiles."
[Footnote A: Poetical license--meaning "what is in the box."]
CHAPTER XXVIII.
"BUT A ROSE HAS THORNS"
The May day, the day of fulfilment for Smiles" dreams and the fruition of her work, had come. Her healthy, mountain-bred body had enabled her to keep well and strong; she had gone through the full three years with scarcely a day"s illness, and she was ready to graduate with the cla.s.s, some of whom would have to stay longer to make up time lost by illness.
Rose awoke early to a sense of something unusual in prospect. On the window of her room the rain was pattering merrily. All nature was one to her, and she loved the showers as much as the sunshine, but, when she began to realize what day it was, they brought a feeling of vague disappointment. Surely this day, which meant so much in her life, might have dawned fair! The glimpse of a leaden sky colored her thoughts for a moment, as she lay still in the drowsy relaxation of half-awakening, when dreams beckon from dolce far niente land, and the whispering voice of slumber mingles with the more stirring call of the brain to be up and doing. The recollection that Donald was far away, and could not be with her to witness her triumph, brought a sense of bitter disappointment to her over again. "I must write him everything that happens to-day. He will be happy in my happiness, I know," she murmured, half aloud, and her roommate awoke and answered with a sleepy, "What, dear?"
"Nothing. I guess that I must have been talking in my sleep," laughed Rose, as she now sat up energetically, fully awake. By their own request Dorothy Roberts and she still occupied one of the few double rooms reserved for third-year student nurses, who preferred to share their quarters.
The other followed, more drowsily.
"Look," called Rose, from the window. "It"s going to clear. Oh, see that wonderful rainbow. I don"t believe I ever saw one in the morning before."
""Rainbow at morning, sailors take warning,"" quoted Dorothy.
"I don"t believe in that, or any other unpleasant "stupidst.i.tion"--as my reverend used to call them," Rose retorted, as she hastily began to dress, for the last time, in the blue striped costume which had been hers for nearly three years, but was, in a few hours, to change to one pure white, like a sombre chrysalis to a radiant b.u.t.terfly. "No matter when a rainbow appears it is always an omen of fair promise. It"s Mother Nature smiling through her tears."
She caught, in the mirror, a reflection of her friend"s affectionate glance; her own cheek began to dimple and her lips to curve as she said, "I can tell by your expression just what you"re going to say, and...."
"Egoist," mocked the other. "I hadn"t the slightest idea of comparing your own smile to a rainbow, so now."
"I can"t help it, really." Rose spoke with unfeigned distress in her voice, and began angrily to ma.s.sage the corners of her mouth downward. "There"s something wrong with the muscles of my face, I think, and sometimes I get worried for fear people will think that it"s affectation. I get frightfully tired of seeing a perpetually forced grin on other faces--it reminds me of Mr. William Shakespeare"s remark that "a man may smile and be a villain still.""
"Not with your kind, dear. "There"s a painted smile on the lip that lies, when the villain plays his part; and the smile in the depths of the honest eyes--and this is the smile of the heart.""
"Or of the cheerful idiot," supplemented Rose. "Do you really think that I"m ... shallow? Sometimes it seems to me that the truly wise, thoughtful people, who search the deeps of life and are themselves strongly stirred, are always serious looking."
"Pooh. It"s generally pose, and a much easier one to get away with. I always discount it about ninety-nine per cent."
"But, at least, others must think that I am always happy, and I"m not--sometimes I wish that I might be; but not often, for one would have to be utterly selfish and unsympathetic in order to be so, when there is so much suffering everywhere."
"I know, and feel the same way, Rose. But it seems to me that a smile--at least one like yours--isn"t so much the visible expression of joy, as it is a symbol of cheer for others ... like a rainbow. There, I vowed that I wouldn"t, and now I"ve "gone and went and done it.""
Miss Roberts spoke lightly, to cover a suspicious huskiness in her voice, for she worshipped the girl who had been so close to her for three years, and whose way and hers would necessarily diverge after that morning.
"Don"t you dare to forget how to smile. We all love it," she added, with an a.s.sumption of a bullying tone; and then the two held each other very close and laughed and cried, both together, for a moment. They finished dressing in unusual silence, for the thoughts of each were busy with the things which the day and the future might bring forth for them.
Contrary to custom, Dorothy finished first, and preceded Rose downstairs.
When the latter reached the little a.s.sembly room, she found a small group of pupil nurses standing in the doorway. One was reading something from a page of a sensational afternoon newspaper, dated the day previous, and, as Smiles joined them, she hastily slipped it out of sight behind her. All of them appeared so self-conscious, that the new arrival stopped with a queer tightening about her heart.
"Show it to her," said Dorothy, quietly. "She"s bound to hear of it sooner or later."
The sinking sensation within Rose"s breast increased, and she stepped forward, saying faintly, "What is it, Dolly? Not ... not Dr. MacDonald? Nothing has happened ...?"
"No, dear. That is ... well, it concerns him; but I think that, if anything, he is to be congratulated. It is something to find out.... Here, read it yourself."
She took the paper from the owner, and handed it to Rose.
It was the page devoted to happenings in society, and from the top centre looked forth a two-column cut of Marion Treville"s strikingly beautiful face. Beneath was a stick of text, which read: "Back Bay society is buzzing with the rumor, which comes from an apparently unimpeachable source, that the beautiful Miss Treville of Beacon Street, who, since her debut seven years ago, has been one of the leaders of Boston"s smartest set, is about to announce her engagement to Stanley Everts Vandermeer, the well-known New York millionaire sportsman. Miss Treville was formerly betrothed to Dr. Donald MacDonald, the famous children"s specialist of this city, who has been in France for more than two years. No previous intimation had been given that this engagement had been broken."
Rose read the brief article twice, mechanically, and almost without understanding. Then a wave of hot anger, akin to that which had possessed her on the mountain on the afternoon when her eyes had first been opened to the duplicity of human nature, swept over her. It was only by a strong effort that she refrained from crushing the sheet, and speaking aloud her denunciation of the woman whose behavior so outraged her sense of justice.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "READ THE BRIEF ARTICLE TWICE, MECHANICALLY, AND ALMOST WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING"]
The call came for the morning prayer, and she handed the paper back without a word; but for once the simple exercises, which, on this morning, should have meant so much more than usual, wholly failed to bring their customary peace. Her lips formed the words of the prayer, and joined in the singing of the hymn, but her mind was far away in France, and her heart rebellious within her.
Her thoughts did not harbor a doubt of Donald"s love for the woman, who, it was said on "apparently unimpeachable" authority, had now discarded him for another and wealthier suitor. To be sure, he had not married her, as he might have, before he went away; but this was not strange, under the conditions; indeed, she thought it to his credit, since he had left to be away so long in the performance of a hard and hazardous duty. And surely Donald had remained true! Anything else was unthinkable, and, besides, Ethel often spoke of her sister-in-law-to-be, and of the marriage which would quickly follow her brother"s return. That Miss Treville had apparently remained so faithful, also, had helped to banish some of Smiles" uncertain feelings concerning her, and she had begun to hope that some day she might succeed in finding the key to the city woman"s heart and enter the fold of her friendship, for she could not bear the idea that Donald"s marriage might result in Donald"s being estranged from her, or cause a break in their wonderful friendship. Now her thoughts railed against the woman who had been so unstable, at a time when keeping faith with those who went, perhaps to die, had become a nation"s watchword. This thought completely superseded the one that had sometimes been hers--that the woman was not worthy the love of the man whom she, herself, worshipped. It was like a mother, suffering for her hurt child, and her lips quivered with suppressed hate. It pa.s.sed, and left her almost frightened.
"I guess that I"m still a mountaineer at heart," she whispered, as she mechanically bowed her head with the others. "I almost feel as though I could kill her. Poor Donald! He has always been so blindly trusting where his heart was concerned.... Perhaps Dorothy is right, perhaps he is better off, if it is true; but if this embitters him, if it spoils his faith in womankind, I shall hate her as long as I live." Then came the reflection that the report might not be true. "I shall go and ask her, myself, this afternoon!"
Smiles arose from her knees, aged in soul.
She had looked forward to this morning with all the eager antic.i.p.ation of a child; but now, as she donned the white uniform of a graduate nurse--the costume which represented the full attainment of the hard-won goal,--no smile greeted her as she looked at her own reflection in the gla.s.s.
"Donald was right," she murmured. "I am just beginning to realize that even this fulfilment of my dream is not going to bring me happiness. It is born of the heart, or not at all." And her mind travelled back to the letter which she had tearfully penned him after Big Jerry"s death. "Things never happen just as we plan. When we look forward to something pleasant which we want very much to happen, we never stop to think that there may be unhappiness mixed with it." A solitary tear ran down her cheek, and made a moist spot on the front of her new uniform.
The smile, usually spontaneous, had to be forced to her lips when she went to take her place, with the score of other happy graduating nurses, in the amphitheatre of the Harvard Medical School, next door, where the exercises were to be held.
"What is the matter with my Rose?" wondered Miss Merriman, who had managed to be present. And, "What is the matter with my Rose?" thought Dr. Bentley. He had seen her for just a moment that morning, and, through the warm, lingering pressure of her hand, received the thanks which she could not speak.
It was, in truth, a very sober Smiles who only half-heard the words of the impressively simple exercises, during which the newly made laborers in the Lord"s vineyard received the diplomas which bore the seal of the hospital--a Madonna-like nurse, holding a child. Its original, cast in bronze--the work of a famous modern sculptor--hung in the administration building of the hospital, and she had often stood before it with tender dreams. And it was a very sober Smiles upon whose dress was pinned the blue and gold cross, the emblem alike of achievement and service.
Miss Merriman spoke her thought aloud, as she took the girl into her arms, afterwards. "You looked too sweet for words, dear. But, tell me, why that woe-begone expression on this, of all days? One would think that all the worries of the world lay on your young heart."
"Perhaps they do," was the non-committal answer. And Rose pleaded a previous engagement when the older nurse begged her company for the afternoon, and Dr. Bentley for the evening.
The happy laughter, the parting words, both grave and gay, which were spoken by those who had been her companions during the long journey, fell on ears which heard, but transmitted them to her mind vaguely, and her answers were inconsequential, so much so, that more than one friend regarded her with troubled surprise and whispered to another that Rose was either not well, or was dazed with happiness. And when Dorothy ventured to hint at the latter alternative, the girl acknowledged it with a strained imitation of her usual smile, and straightway found her thoughts scourging her because of this new deception.
It seemed to her that the day, for which she had builded so long, was tumbling about its foundations, and yet, when she now and again brought her runaway thoughts up with a round turn, she could not a.s.sign any logical reason for her feeling as she did.
"After all, what is it to me?" she would ask herself, logically, one moment. And at the next her heart would reply, "Everything. He is all that you have in the world in the way of "family," for he is more than friend to you." "Yes," Rose would admit, "I am afraid for him, I could not be more so if he were really my brother. She isn"t worthy of him--I"ve known that, somehow, since the first day that he tried to tell me about her. But that isn"t the point. Love is blind, and, if her faithlessness hurts him, I will hate her always. I hate her now. She has spoiled my day, and I know that I have hurt Gertrude and Philip, for they can"t understand what the trouble is."
The idea pa.s.sed over and over through the endless labyrinth of her brain and found no escape, while she ate the noonday meal, and later changed from her white uniform to a plain blue serge walking dress, and black sailor hat. Ever with it went the accompanying thought, "I must see her." To what end she did not know or seriously attempt to a.n.a.lyze. Rose was not the first to take up cudgels in a lost cause, spurred thereto by a purpose which was incapable of receiving any logical explanation. It was the "mother spirit," fighting for its own.
A maid opened the door on Beacon street in response to her ring, and, on entering the hall, Rose found herself face to face with Marion Treville. She was clad for the street and was at that moment in the act of b.u.t.toning a long white glove. As she recognized the visitor, a deep flush mounted quickly on the patrician face of the older woman and, for an instant, her teeth caught her lower lip.
Smiles" face was very pale, so pale that her large eyes by contrast appeared almost startling in their depth and color. There was a gossamer film of dust on her shoes and the bottom of her skirt, for she had walked all the way from the hospital, and she realized this fact with a sense of chagrin, when she saw Miss Treville"s eyes travel to her feet, and mentally contrasted her own appearance with that of the perfectly appointed daughter of wealth before her.
Neither spoke for an instant. It was as though each were trying to read the thoughts of the other. Then Miss Treville said in a cool, even tone, "You may go, Louise."
The maid vanished silently, with one curious backward glance as she pa.s.sed through the door at the end of the hallway.
"Miss ... Webb, isn"t it? You wished to see ...?"
"Tell me that it isn"t true," broke in Rose, her voice trembling a little in spite of her effort at self-control.
"Tell you it isn"t ... true?" echoed the other, with lifted eyebrows. "I"m afraid that I don"t quite underst ..."
"But you do understand, Miss Treville, why do you say that you don"t? It is in the paper."
"Perhaps I meant to say that I do not understand why you should come here to ask such a question, Miss Webb," was the icy response.
Rose was silent. What answer could she make to this pertinent question? She felt the hot tears starting to her eyes; but, even as she was on the point of turning toward the door, with a little choked sob of bitter chagrin, the other continued. Curiosity had unloosed her tongue.
"Well? May I be so bold as to inquire what interest you may have in my personal affairs, Miss Webb? Frankly, I am at a loss to understand the meaning of this unexpected, and--I might say--somewhat unusual visit."
"I ... I don"t know as I can explain," began Rose, hesitantly. "I ... I felt that I had to see you, because ... I had a letter yesterday from ... from Dr. MacDonald...."
"Ah."
"Of course he writes to me, you know that he is my guardian," she answered the interruption with a flash of spirit. "He said in it that he was coming home just as soon as he was able to ... to get well and ... be married, and then that paper.... Oh, Miss Treville, surely it isn"t so. You wouldn"t throw him over, when he is so far away, and ... and sick?"
The other"s voice was not quite as steady as before, when she answered, "I don"t see why I am called upon to explain my ... to explain anything to you, Miss Webb."
"Then it is true." The sentence rang out sharply. "And he doesn"t know. He thinks that you are waiting, and ..."
"We need not discuss the matter, in fact I doubt if the doctor would appreciate your ... shall we say "championage"? The matter is between him and me, wholly."
"No, it is not, Miss Treville," flared Rose, with the angry color at last flooding her cheeks. "I have heard people say that, if that story is true, he is lucky to have escaped marrying you; but, just the same, those of us who really love him--you needn"t look like that, of course I love him--don"t want to have him hurt, as any man would be who was cast off like an old glove while he was far away and had no chance to speak for himself. That is why I hoped it wasn"t true, and that you hadn"t, perhaps, killed his faith in my kind. And that is the only reason."
Once started, her words had poured out as hot as lava which had broken from a pent-up volcano.
"So, that is the reason, the only reason, for your coming to me with your impertinent question?" Miss Treville laughed oddly. "Really! Do you know, I have always suspected that the little savage whom he brought from somewhere in the backwoods regarded him as rather more than a guardian, or a brother ... that was the pretty fiction, wasn"t it?" she added, with honey coating the vinegar in her speech.
Under the lash of the words Rose grew white again. Her hands clenched; but, before she could answer, Miss Treville continued: "It really seems to me that you ought to thank me for stepping aside so obligingly."
The occupation of a high level in the civilized world, or in society, is no proof of the Christian virtue of self-control,--that has been demonstrated, in the case of a nation, all too clearly these last years; and individuals are like nations, or vice versa. The feline that lies dormant, as often in the finished product of city convention as in the breast of the primeval woman, was now thrusting out its claws from the soft paws of breeding. And Miss Marion Treville, leader of Back Bay society, was rather enjoying the sensation. She had pa.s.sed not a few uncomfortable hours in company with her conscience, even while she was yielding to the glamorous flame which surrounded her new suitor. It was a real relief for her to be able to "take it out" on some one else, and a victim had offered herself for the sacrifice, most opportunely.
Rose shrank back as though she had been struck; then steadied herself and said with an effort--for her throat and lips were dry, "I think that perhaps you were right when you called me a "little savage." I know that I feel like one in my heart now, and I think, too, that it would be a real pleasure for me to ... to ..."
The other stepped hastily back, and Rose laughed, bitterly.
"Oh, please don"t be frightened, I"m not going to scratch you. We wood people don"t fight with your kind of animal, they"re too unpleasant at close range." She paused, and then went on more steadily. "I came here ... I didn"t know just why I was coming,--perhaps to plead with you for Donald"s sake. That doesn"t look much as though I loved him ... in the way you insinuate, does it? No, if I had, I should have won him away from you, long ago. It would not have been difficult, I think."