Dawn

  CHAPTER XII

  CALLERS FOR "KEITHIE"

  And so inch by inch Susan fought her way, and inch by inch she gainedground. Sometimes it was by coaxing, sometimes by scolding; perhapsmost often by taunts and dares, and shrewd appeals to Keith's pride.But by whatever it was, each day saw some stride forward, some newvictory that Keith had won over his blindness, until by the end of theweek the boy could move about the house and wait upon himself with afacility almost unbelievable when one remembered his listlesshelplessness of a week before.

  Then one day there entered into the case a brand-new element, a daintyelement in white muslin and fluttering blue ribbons--Mazie Sanborn andDorothy Parkman.

  "We heard Keithie was lots better and up and dressed now," chirpedMazie, when Susan answered her ring; "and so we've brought him someflowers. Please can't we see him?"

  Susan hesitated. Susan had not forgotten Keith's feverish retreat fromMazie's greeting called up to the veranda the month before. But then,for that matter, had he not retreated from everything until shedeterminedly took him in hand? And he must some time begin to minglewith the world outside the four walls of his house!

  Why not now? What better chance could she hope to have for him tobegin than this? Where could she find two more charmingly alluringambassadors of that outside world than right here on the door-stepnow?

  Susan's lips snapped together with a little defiant nod of her head,then parted in a cordial smile.

  "Sure, you may see him," she cried, "an' it's glad that I am to haveyou come! It'll do him good. Come in, come in!" And with only aheightened color to show her trepidation as to the reception thatmight be accorded her charges, she threw open the sitting-room door."Well, Keith, here's company come on purpose to see you. An' they'vebrought you some flowers," she announced gayly.

  "No, no, Susan, I--I don't want to see them," stammered the boy. Hehad leaped to his feet, a painful red flooding his face.

  "Well, I like that!" bridled Mazie, with playful indignation; "andwhen Dorothy and I have taken all this trouble to come and--"

  "Is Dorothy here, too?" interrupted the boy sharply.

  "Yes, Keith I am--here." Dorothy was almost crying, and her voicesounded harsh and unnatural.

  "And we brought you these," interposed Mazie brightly, crossing theroom to his side and holding out the flowers. Then, with a littleembarrassed laugh, as he did not take them, she thrust them into hisfingers. "Oh, I forgot. You can't see them, can you?"

  "Mazie!" remonstrated the half-smothered voice of Dorothy.

  But it was Susan who came promptly to the rescue.

  "Yes, an' ain't they pretty?" she cried, taking them from Keith'sunresisting fingers. "Here, let me put 'em in water, an' you two sitdown. I always did love coronation pinks," she declared briskly, asshe left the room.

  She was not gone long. Very quickly she came back, with the flowers ina vase. Keith had dropped back into his chair; but he was plainly sounwilling a host that Susan evidently thought best to assist him. Sheset the vase on a little stand near Keith's chair, then droppedherself on to the huge haircloth sofa near by.

  "My, but I don't mind settin' myself awhile," she smiled. "Guess I'mtired."

  "I should think you would be." Mazie, grown suddenly a bit stiff andstilted, was obviously trying to be very polite and "grown up." "Theremust be an awful lot to do here. Mother says she don't see how youstand it."

  "Pooh! Not so very much!" scoffed Susan, instantly on her guard."Keith here's gettin' so smart he won't let me do anything hardly forhim now."

  "Oh, but there must be a lot of things," began Mazie, "that he can'tdo, and--"

  "Er--what a lovely big, sunny room," interrupted Dorothy hastily, sohastily that Susan threw a sharp glance into her face to see if shewere really interrupting Mazie for a purpose. "I love big rooms."

  "Yes, so do I," chimed in Mazie. "And I always wanted to see theinside of this house, too."

  "What for?" Keith's curiosity got the better of his vexed reticence,and forced the question from his lips.

  "Oh, just 'cause I've heard folks say 'twas so wonderful--old, youknow, and full of rare old things, and there wasn't another for milesaround like it. But I don't see--That is," she corrected herself,stumbling a little, "you probably don't keep them in this room,anyway."

  "Why, they do, too," interfered Dorothy, with suddenly pink cheeks."This room is just full of the loveliest kind of old things, just likethe things father is always getting--only nicer. Now that, right therein the corner, all full of drawers--We've got one almost just exactlylike that out home, and father just dotes on it. That IS a--a highboy,isn't it?" she appealed to Susan. "And it is very old, isn't it?"

  "A highboy? Old? Lan' sakes, child," laughed Susan. "Maybe 'tis. Iain't sayin' 'tisn't, though I'm free to confess I never heard itcalled that. But it's old enough, if that's all it needs; it's oldenough to be a highMAN by this time, I reckon," chuckled Susan. "Mr.Burton was tellin' me one day how it belonged to his great-grand-mother."

  "Kind of funny-looking, though, isn't it?" commented Mazie.

  "Father'd love it, so'd Aunt Hattie," avowed Dorothy, evidently notslow to detect the lack of appreciation in Mazie's voice. "And I do,too," she finished, with a tinge of defiance.

  Mazie laughed.

  "Well, all right, you may, for all I care," she retorted. Then toKeith she turned with sudden disconcerting abruptness: "Say, Keith,what do you do all day?"

  It was Susan who answered this. Indeed, it was Susan who answered agood many of the questions during the next fifteen minutes. Some sheanswered because she did not want Keith to answer them. More sheanswered because Keith would not answer them. To tell the truth, Keithwas anything but a polite, gracious host. He let it be plainlyunderstood that he was neither pleased at the call nor interested inthe conversation. And the only semblance of eagerness in his demeanorthat afternoon was when his young visitors rose to go.

  In spite of Keith's worse than indifference, however, Susan wasconvinced that this call, and others like it, were exactly what wasneeded for Keith's best welfare and development. With all her skilland artifice, therefore, she exerted herself to make up for Keith'snegligence. She told stories, rattled off absurd jingles, and laughedand talked with each young miss in turn, determined to make the callso great a success that the girls would wish to come again.

  When she had bowed them out and closed the door behind them, she cameback to Keith, intending to remonstrate with him for his veryungracious behavior. But before she could open her lips Keith himselfhad the floor.

  "Susan Betts," he began passionately, as soon as she entered the room,"don't you ever let those girls in again. I won't have them. I WON'THAVE THEM, I tell you!

  "Oh, for shame, Keith!--and when they were so kind and thoughtful,too!"

  "It wasn't kindness and thoughtfulness," resented the boy. "It wasspying out. They came to see how I took it. I know 'em. And thatDorothy Parkman--I don't know WHY she came. She said long ago that shecouldn't bear--to look at 'em."

  "Look at them?"

  "Yes--blind folks. Her father is a big oculist--doctors eyes, youknow. She told me once. And she said she couldn't bear to look atthem; that--"

  "An eye doctor?--a big one?" Susan was suddenly excited, alert.

  "Yes, yes. And--"

  "Where's he live?"

  "I don't know. Where she does, I s'pose. I don't know where that is.She's here most of the time, and--"

  "Is he a real big one?--a really, truly big one?"

  "Yes, yes, I guess so." Keith had fallen wearily back in his chair,his strength spent. "Dad said he was one of the biggest in thecountry. And of course lots of--of blind people go there, and she seesthem. Only she says she can't bear to see them, that she won't look atthem. And--and she shan't come here--she shan't, Susan, to look at me,and--"

  But Susan was not listening now. With chin up-tilted and a new fire inher eyes, she had turned toward the kitchen door.

  Two days later, on her way to the
store, Susan spied Dorothy Parkmanacross the street. Without hesitation or ceremony she went straightacross and spoke to her.

  "Is it true that your father is a big occultist, one of the biggestthere is?" she demanded.

  "A--what?" Dorothy frowned slightly.

  "Occultist--doctors folks' eyes, you know. Is he? I heard he was."

  "Oh! Y-yes--yes, he is." Miss Dorothy was giggling a bit now.

  "Then, listen!" In her eagerness Susan had caught the girl's sleeveand held it. "Can't you get him to come on an' see you, right away,quick? Don't he want to take you home, or--or something?"

  Dorothy laughed merrily.

  "Why, Susan, are you in such a hurry as all that to get rid of me? DidI act so bad the other day that--" A sudden change crossed her face.Her eyes grew soft and luminous. "Was it for--Keith that you wantedfather, Susan?"

  "Yes." Susan's eyes blurred, and her voice choked.

  "Well, then I'm glad to tell you he is coming by and by. He's comingto take me home for Christmas. But--he isn't going to stay long."

  "That's all right--that's all right," retorted Susan, a littlebreathlessly. "If he'd jest look at the boy's eyes an' tell if--if hecould fix 'em later. You see, we--we couldn't have it done now, 'causethere ain't any money to pay. But we'll have it later. We'll sure haveit later, an' then--"

  "Of course he'll look at them," interrupted Dorothy eagerly. "He'lllove to, I know. He's always so interested in eyes, and new cases.And--and don't worry about the other part--the money, you know,"nodded Dorothy, hurrying away then before Susan could protest.

  As it happened Keith was more "difficult" than usual that afternoon,and Susan, thinking to rouse him from his lassitude, suddenlydetermined to tell him all about the wonderful piece of good fortunein store for him.

  "How'd you like to have that little Miss Dorothy's daddy see youreyes, honey," she began eagerly, "an' tell--"

  "I wouldn't let him see them." Keith spoke coldly, decisively.

  "Oh, but he's one of the biggest occultists there is, an'--"

  "I suppose you mean 'oculist,' Susan," interrupted Keith, still morecoldly; "but that doesn't make any difference. I don't want him."

  "But, Keith, if he--"

  "I tell you I won't have him," snapped Keith irritably.

  "But you've got to have somebody, an' if he's the biggest!" All theeager light had died out of Susan's face.

  "I don't care if he is the biggest, he's Dorothy Parkman's father, andthat's enough. I WON'T HAVE HIM!"

  "No, no; well, all right!" And Susan, terrified and dismayed, hurriedfrom the room.

  But though Susan was dismayed and terrified, she was far from beingsubdued. In the kitchen she lifted her chin defiantly.

  "All right, Master Keith," she muttered to herself. "You can say whatyou want to, but you'll have him jest the same--only you won't knowhe's HIM. I'll jest tell him to call hisself another name for you. An'some time I'll find out what there is behind that Dorothy Parkmanbusiness. But 'tain't till Christmas, an' that's 'most two months offyet. Time enough for trouble when trouble knocks at the door; an' tillit does knock, jest keep peggin' away."