Mona Maclean, Medical Student: A NovelTravers, Graham
General
Mona Maclean, Medical Student: A Novel
Travers, Graham
Women medical students -- Fiction
Mona, not being a native, was but little interested in the
new-comers, save from a money-making point of view; and she was
leaning idly against the wall, half-smiling at the commotion the
event had caused, when all at once her heart gave a leap, and the
blood rushed madly over her face. Within twenty yards of her, in
Lady Kirkhope's party, chatting and laughing, as he used to do in the
good old days, stood the Sahib. There was no doubt about it. A
correct morning dress had taken the place of the easy tweeds and the
old straw hat, but the round, brotherly, boyish face was the same as
ever. The very sight of it called up in Mona's mind a flood of happy
reminiscences, as did the friendly face of the moon above the
chimney-pots to the home-sick author of _Bilderbuch_.
Oh, it was good to see him again! For one moment Mona revelled in
the thought of all they would have to say to each other, and then----
"My dear," said Miss Bonthron, "I think you have some little
haberdashery-cases like this in your shop. How much do you think we
might ask for it?"
Like the "knocking at the door in _Macbeth_," the words brought Mona
back to a world of prose realities. With swift relentless force the
recollection rushed upon her mind that the Sahib had come with the
"county people" to honour the bazaar with his presence; while she was
a poor little shop-girl, who had been asked to assist, partly as a
great treat, and partly because of her skill in subtracting
three-and-sixpence from the pound.
"Half-a-crown we price them. I think you might say three shillings
here," she said, smiling; but deep down in her mind she was thinking,
"Oh, I hope, I hope he won't notice me! Doris is bad enough, but
picture the Sahib in the shop!" She broke into a little laugh that
was half a sob, and her eyes looked suspiciously bright.
"Mona," said Doris, coming up to her suddenly, "somebody is looking
very charming to-day, do you know?"
"Yes," said Mona boldly, flashing back the compliment in an admiring
glance; "I have been thinking so all morning, whenever intervening
crowds allowed me to catch a glimpse of her."
"I have been longing so to say to all the room, 'Do you see that
bright young thing? She is a medical student!'"
"Pray don't!" said Mona, horrified. "My cousin would never forgive
you--nor, indeed, for the matter of that, should I. How are you
getting on?"
"My dear," was the reply, "I have sold more rubbish this morning than
I ever even saw before. After all, the secret of success at bazaars
lies solely in the fact that there is no accounting for taste!"
At this moment a customer claimed Mona's attention, and, when she
looked up again, Doris was in earnest conversation with an elderly
gentleman. Mona overheard something about "women's power."
"Women," was the reply, delivered with a courteous bow, "have no
power, they have only influence."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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