When I was again aware of living I heard things hazily, quite as if there were a thick wall between me and the voices of the people who stood so anxiously bending over me. “I tell you, Archie, the child was strangled,” I heard Aunt Penelope say. “And Heaven only knows what may happen next, with all the Bolsheviki around--can’t you do something (Amy, put down that revolver, you are driving me crazy!)--and Evelyn, right in the next room, hearing nothing. . . . And said she wasn’t asleep. . . . Amy, if you don’t sit down I will scream! And Ito, right in the pantry, by the fire-escape, on which he must have climbed (if it was a he), and how he got up I don’t know. . . . And you say there’s no danger, doctor? . . . The only child of my dear dead sister, and what will happen next? . . . The only thing, of course, is to remain calm (Amy, can’t you stop wiggling? There are limits.), and I suppose to maintain calm is the only sensible proceeding---- What was that?” She screamed the last, and I sat up.
The doctor was almost rude about telling her to be quiet. And then he ordered them all out and sat down on the edge of my bed.
“Anyone you especially want to see?” he asked.
I said I didn’t think so.
“Sure?” he asked.
“You’d better not sit with your back to the window,” I advised. Then he took hold of my hand. “There is no danger in windows,” he said in a level, awfully sure voice. “What hurt you won’t hurt you again. . .” And he said it so that I believed him at the time.
“Now about someone to sit with you to-night. The ladies, it seems, all have engagements, and I’ve urged them to keep them. Thought the normal might give them a balance.”
“Oh, I’ll be all right,” I answered. “Jane can look in once in a while.” But without meaning to I looked at the window. The doctor frowned, and I was ashamed. I told him about how I had been chased and that that had upset me a little. And that I was usually brave. He said he thought I was splendid, and that he wasn’t angry with me.
“Sam Kempwood who helped you out of that scrape?” he questioned.
I nodded.
“Bully chap,” he said. “I know him.”
I said I thought he was one of the nicest men that I’d ever met. That you could tell it.
“Suppose he comes up and plays nurse?” the doctor suggested.
I smiled. “That would be lovely,” I admitted after a long breath, for even then I really loved Mr. Kempwood, “but I am sure it will bore him. You see, I don’t know how to entertain people the way my cousin Evelyn does.”
But the doctor said that I was to be entertained, and that he’d stop at Mr. Kempwood’s on the way down. And then he wrapped me up in a pink comforter and carried me out to the living-room, where he put me on a wide lounge which stands before the fire.
“Now Hannah, or Molly, or whatever your name is,” he said to Jane, “you stay with this child until I come back.” And Jane did, but she wasn’t much help. She was so awfully frightened and kept jumping and looking around. . . . In just a few moments the bell rang, and I heard the men in the hall. . . . “Just a little while will change the trend and help her,” the doctor said. “The rest have cleared out and good riddance! Weren’t any good. . . . Awfully decent of you, Kempwood.”
“Not a bit of it,” said Mr. Kempwood; “hadn’t anything to do.”
“Well, don’t make a long business of it,” said the doctor; “just a few moments will help. The child’s evident admiration for you led me to think that you could help her most.” And then they stopped talking and tiptoed in. I smiled at Mr. Kempwood and tried to tell him how grateful I was to him for coming up, but it was not easy to talk.
“Never mind about that,” he said gently. And then he sat down by me, and showed me some pictures which I couldn&rs............