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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
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her! And there were the dull old curtains and the solid, respectable furniture. They all seemed to chime in with the protest. All except Ernestine, who seemed glad and rubbed up against her lovingly, and when she sat down, made a sudden spring into her lap and curled down, purring happily. She looked at the cat wonderingly for an instant and then laid her white hand on the thick fur and let the warmth of the friendly creature comfort her.
After that she sat for a long time rocking back and forth and thinking,
What if I
should
tear it down and make one big room? What if I
should
have a bay window? What if I
should
make a bright spot in the world for myself, and maybe some other people? What if I should?
Suddenly she looked at the clock, and the habit of a lifetime was upon her. It was time to go to bed.
But as she gave Ernestine a good-night pat and reached to turn out her light, she said to herself, “Tomorrow I will go down to the store and get the best Roman history book I can find and read up about the Colosseum.”
Chapter 5
J anice Whitmore was creeping very steadily back to life, and every time that Dr. Sterling went in to see her he felt more and more encouraged about her. It was almost like a miracle, he still felt, for she had been down at the very depths, and it had seemed so impossible to save her. It perhaps gave him more real professional pleasure than any case he had yet cared for. But there was a personal element about it, too, as if he had been given special supervision over this girl, the only one who had been present to do anything for her at the crucial moment, and he felt his responsibility was great.
He had spent much time thinking about her, wondering what her history might be and how soon he dared begin to question her a little. He had been letting the matter drift until she should seem to rouse from the deep apathy that had been over her since she first began to be conscious.
But there came a morning when he entered her room to greet her as usual and she turned to him with a faint smile on her lips, making her face for the instant almost startlingly beautiful. There was a reminder of the lovely beauty he had seen in that face lying against the snow that first night. He drew a quick breath and recovered his normal calm, but somehow he felt the time had come to go forward in the case. To that end, he sat down a few moments to talk.
“You are feeling better, aren’t you?” he asked. “I knew the day would come when I should see the look in your eyes as if you really wanted to live again.”
He was watching her very carefully, and he saw her start and catch her breath.
“Oh no,” she said with a slow quivering breath. “No, I don’t really want to live, only I know it is right to go on as long as God wills it so.”
“Yes,” he said, “it is. God knows what He has ahead for you, and there is a reason why He put you here, I suppose. I don’t know so much about these things, but I’m sure there is a reason God made you. But now, what is it that has made you feel you do not want to live? Wouldn’t it be better if you were to tell me? Can’t you trust me? I shall not make it public.”
“Oh,” she said, and great tears suddenly welled up into her lovely eyes and fell down slowly. “Yes of course,” she said softly. “You see, my only sister died, and her little baby girl died, too, and I’m quite alone in the world.”
Her lip quivered pitifully as she spoke, though she was evidently struggling for self-control.
“Oh, you poor child! That is very hard,” the doctor said sympathetically. “I know those things seem very terrible, especially at first. Were these deaths recent?”
“Yes, the baby died three months ago, and my sister was just buried …” She was going to say “today” till she realized that it wouldn’t be today anymore, for she had perhaps been here on this bed for a long time. “She was just buried the day—I came here—I guess. I can’t quite
After that she sat for a long time rocking back and forth and thinking,
What if I
should
tear it down and make one big room? What if I
should
have a bay window? What if I
should
make a bright spot in the world for myself, and maybe some other people? What if I should?
Suddenly she looked at the clock, and the habit of a lifetime was upon her. It was time to go to bed.
But as she gave Ernestine a good-night pat and reached to turn out her light, she said to herself, “Tomorrow I will go down to the store and get the best Roman history book I can find and read up about the Colosseum.”
Chapter 5
J anice Whitmore was creeping very steadily back to life, and every time that Dr. Sterling went in to see her he felt more and more encouraged about her. It was almost like a miracle, he still felt, for she had been down at the very depths, and it had seemed so impossible to save her. It perhaps gave him more real professional pleasure than any case he had yet cared for. But there was a personal element about it, too, as if he had been given special supervision over this girl, the only one who had been present to do anything for her at the crucial moment, and he felt his responsibility was great.
He had spent much time thinking about her, wondering what her history might be and how soon he dared begin to question her a little. He had been letting the matter drift until she should seem to rouse from the deep apathy that had been over her since she first began to be conscious.
But there came a morning when he entered her room to greet her as usual and she turned to him with a faint smile on her lips, making her face for the instant almost startlingly beautiful. There was a reminder of the lovely beauty he had seen in that face lying against the snow that first night. He drew a quick breath and recovered his normal calm, but somehow he felt the time had come to go forward in the case. To that end, he sat down a few moments to talk.
“You are feeling better, aren’t you?” he asked. “I knew the day would come when I should see the look in your eyes as if you really wanted to live again.”
He was watching her very carefully, and he saw her start and catch her breath.
“Oh no,” she said with a slow quivering breath. “No, I don’t really want to live, only I know it is right to go on as long as God wills it so.”
“Yes,” he said, “it is. God knows what He has ahead for you, and there is a reason why He put you here, I suppose. I don’t know so much about these things, but I’m sure there is a reason God made you. But now, what is it that has made you feel you do not want to live? Wouldn’t it be better if you were to tell me? Can’t you trust me? I shall not make it public.”
“Oh,” she said, and great tears suddenly welled up into her lovely eyes and fell down slowly. “Yes of course,” she said softly. “You see, my only sister died, and her little baby girl died, too, and I’m quite alone in the world.”
Her lip quivered pitifully as she spoke, though she was evidently struggling for self-control.
“Oh, you poor child! That is very hard,” the doctor said sympathetically. “I know those things seem very terrible, especially at first. Were these deaths recent?”
“Yes, the baby died three months ago, and my sister was just buried …” She was going to say “today” till she realized that it wouldn’t be today anymore, for she had perhaps been here on this bed for a long time. “She was just buried the day—I came here—I guess. I can’t quite
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