The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the door
they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person breathed
protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands which were
drawn tightly back from a straight part. When she talked, a
gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise
to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company,
since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one
eye-tooth of one color and the other of another.
"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No,
don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty business
for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here--on general
cleaning-day, too?"
"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge,
playfully.
"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she turned to
the doctor, who was starting up the stairs:
"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. I
can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a
hospital."
"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the lad
out. We've got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have
to stay."
"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor.
But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no question
about it.
"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. "If he
gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't be moved
now."
"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I would
let him go to that dirty house--and with this fever, too? Why, Mrs.
Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since Christmas! She and
the preacher and Martha all sit around with their noses in books, and
never even know that the water-spout is leaking and the porch needs
mopping! You can't tell me anything about the Meeches!"
Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the doorway,
looking very grave.
"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs.
Hollis.
The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly
verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly about
the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, her dress
ripped at the belt, her hair flying.
"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I could
manage her all right."
The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut mouth,
to the flying figure on the lawn.
"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on Annette.
That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the sitting-room,
she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair.
"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' out?"
"The what?"
"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de spells I
knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good."
"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "and it means a long spell of
nursing and bother for me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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