Janice Day, the Young Homemaker

  CHAPTER XXIII. THE SILVER LINING TO A VERY BLACK CLOUD

  Janice dropped the mixing spoon and the dishcloth and ran outupon the side porch, and from thence down the steps and the walkto the gate. Her heart beat so that she could scarcely get herbreath.

  The white uniformed men were drawing the stretcher out of theambulance, and Janice, horrified and all but breathless, suddenlysaw her father sitting up on the stretcher.

  "Don't be scared, Janice. Be a brave girl," he cried. "It isonly my leg."

  "But--but what have they done to your leg, Daddy?" she cried,wringing her hands.

  One of the uniformed men laughed. It was a cheerful laugh, andhe was a jolly looking man. But Janice thought it was very easyindeed for him to laugh.

  "It isn't his leg--or any of his relations" she thought.

  "I tell you what they have done to him," he said, taking hold ofboth handles at the foot of the stretcher. "They have just set acompound fracture below the knee and put it into splints. Yourdaddy is going to have a glass leg for some time to come, and youmust take good care of it. Where shall we carry him?"

  While he spoke and the other man was taking hold of the otherhandles of the stretcher, Mr. Day lay down again. He did notgroan, but he was very white. He gave Janice's hand a stronggrip, however, when she got to him.

  "Pluck up your courage, dear," he said. "This is no killingmatter."

  But now neighbors began to hurry to them. Children, of course,for Knight Street was well supplied with them. But Mrs. ArloWeeks and Mrs. Peckinpaw came from across the street, while MissPeckham appeared from her cottage.

  "Dear me! Was he picked up that way?" asked Mrs. Weeks, in herhigh, strident tone. "My Arlo had a fit once--"

  "Tain't a fit," said Mrs. Peckinpaw, who was a very old woman andwho never spoke to Miss Peckham because of some neighborhoodsquabble which had happened so long before that neither of themremembered what it was about.

  "Tain't a fit," she said acidly; "for then they foam at themouth, or drool. I never knew he had anything the matter withhim, chronic."

  The jolly looking man laughed. Miss Peckham on the other side ofthe stretcher, and without looking at the other women, asked:

  "Oughtn't he be took to the hospital? There's nobody here totake care of him but that fly-away young one."

  "I won't have him taken to a hospital!" cried Janice stormily."You bring him right into the house--"

  "Well, 'tain't fittin'," said Miss Peckham decidedly.

  "I guess both Mr. Day and his daughter know what they want," saidthe cheerful looking man, decidedly. "He wanted to be broughthome. Now, my little lady, where shall we put him? All ready,Bill?"

  "All ready," said Bill, who had the handles at the head of thestretcher.

  "But what's the matter with him?" demanded Mrs. Peckinpaw again."Is it ketchin'?"

  "He has a compound fracture of the tibia," declared the cheerfulman.

  "Oh! My mercy!" ejaculated Mrs. Peckinpaw, shrinking away fromthe stretcher. "I--I didn't kmow Mr. Day drank!"

  She had evidently heard alcoholism called by so many queersounding terms that anything she not understand she set down tothat dread trouble. But Miss Peckham had run ahead into thehouse.

  "Take him right up to his bedroom," she said commandingly to themen with the stretcher.

  "Well, if that woman's goin' to take hold, they don't need me,"said Mrs. Peckinpaw, snappishly, and she retained her stand uponthe strictly neutral ground of the sidewalk.

  Mrs. Arlo Weeks was "all of a quiver," as she herself said. Shefollowed the men as far as the steps and there sank to a seat.

  "My, my! I feel just like fainting," she murmured.

  Meanwhile the two uniformed men were carrying Mr. Day into thehouse.

  "Right up here!" cried Miss Peckham from the stairway.

  "No," said Mr. Day, "put me on the couch in the living room. Fixit, Janice."

  At this Janice awoke from her apathy. She rushed in ahead andfixed the pillows on the couch, and got a warm cover to put overhim.

  "I'm to be laid up some weeks," Mr. Day said courageously. "Idon't want to be put upstairs where I don't know a thing aboutwhat's going on in the house. I'll stay downstairs."

  "That couch ought to be made up like a bed for you, Mr. Day,"said the cheerful man, as Janice dropped down the back which madeit into a bed-lounge.

  "Do that later," said Mr. Day. "Here! Where's Mrs. Weeks?"

  Janice ran to call her. Miss Peckham was descending the stairs,her nose in the air. She seemed offended that she could not rulethe proceedings.

  "Mrs. Weeks," said Janice to the woman from across the street,"will you come in? Father wants to speak to you."

  "I--I don't know as my legs will carry me," sighed Mrs. Weeks."Have they put him to bed? Has he got his clo'es off?"

  "He just wishes to speak to you," explained Janice. "Right inhere."

  She led the way into the living room. Miss Peckham was still"sniffing" in the doorway. The two ambulance men were preparingto depart.

  "When Arlo Weeks comes home from business, tell him I want to seehim," said Mr. Day to the woman. "He'll help me off with myclothes and get me into bed here. I shall be all right."

  He spoke quite cheerfully now, and even Janice was recovering herself-possession.

  "Oh, well, I'll telI him," murmured Mrs. Weeks. "I'm sick o'shock, myself. But we have to sacrifice when our neighbors needsus. Yes, Mr. Day, I'll send Arlo over."

  She trailed out after the two men. Mrs. Peckham sniffed afterher, too.

  "Well," the spinster said, "I can make him some broth. He'll neednourishing victuals. And he ain't been gettin' anything of late,I guess, but what that child's messed up."

  She departed kitchenward. Janice and daddy looked at each otherhopelessly. Then together, and in chorus, they murmured:

  "But I thought she had washed her hands of us!"

  "I don't want broth," grumbled Broxton Day, after a minute. "Iwant my dinner. What have you got that's good, Janice?"

  "Stew--lamb stew. Nice," she groaned. "And plenty of vegetableslike you like."

  "'Like you like' is almost as good as the stew will be," chuckledher father faintly. "We must get that woman out of the house,Janice. She will be an Old Man of the Sea."

  "No, no!" giggled the girl. "An 'Old Maid of the Sea,' youmean."

  "Maybe I do. But how to get rid of her--"

  "I know! Wait!" Janice dashed out of the room and out of thehouse. A crowd of children was still at the gate.

  "Arlo Junior!" she called into the dusk, "Come here! I want you."

  "You want my pa. He ain't home yet," said Junior, drawing nearslowly.

  "I want you to do an errand for me," said Janice hastily. "Comehere--close. I'll tell you. Your mother won't mind."

  "All right," said Junior, offering an attentive ear.

  "You know where Gummy Carringford lives?"

  "Course I do."

  "Well, you run there, and see his mother; and you tell her--"

  Janice in whispers told the boy just what to say to Mrs.Carringford, and he repeated it before he darted off on theerrand. Arlo Junior was a great boy to play tricks, but he wouldnot play them at such a time as this.

  Janice went back to her father's side and left Miss Peckham, whomshe heard moving about the kitchen, strictly alone. Daddy toldher all about the accident.

  It seemed, when he came down the stairs from the Chamber ofCommerce, where he had gone on an errand, a scrubwoman had left acake of soap on the next to the top step."

  "Of course, it was just my luck to find it for her," said BroxtonDay, with rather a grim laugh. "Maybe she wanted that soap. ButI did not. I kicked right up, Janice, and it is a wonder I didnot break my back as well as my leg."

  "Oh, Daddy!"

  "I landed so hard at the bottom of the flight that I wasunconscious for a few minutes. Luckily Dr. Bowles, the surgeon,has offices in that very building. They picked
me up and carriedme to him and he fixed up the leg. It will be as good as new, hesays, after a while."

  "Oh, dear, Daddy! you might have been killed," cried Janice,suddenly sobbing.

  "Well, it's all over now--but the shouting," muttered Mr. Day,his face suddenly contorted with pain. "Don't fuss, my dear.This is something that can be mended, I am sure. Don't give wayto tears."

  "Oh, but, Daddy! I know! I know!" sobbed the girl, hiding herface in his shoulder. "But something did happen--and I--I wishedfor it!"

  "Wished for me to break my leg?" gasped daddy.

  "Oh, no! Oh, no! But I wished something would happen so that Iwould not have to go to live at Poketown this summer.And--now--something--has--happened."

  "Quite true, my dear," said Mr. Day, after a moment's silence."You got your wish. But as usual, you did not get it just as youwished it. Still, the very blackest cloud has its silverlining."

  Janice could not imagine a silver lining to this cloud --not justat that moment. She only realized that daddy was suffering froman accident that it did seem her wish had brought to him. It wasa very serious and disturbing thought for the girl

  Janice did not want to go out into the kitchen to see what MissPeckham was about. She had left the tender breast and shoulderof lamb for the stew simmering on the back of the stove, and thevegetables were all ready to put in it. What the spinster woulddo toward making broth Janice did not know. And daddy did notwant broth.

  Just now, however, the girl felt too much disturbed to entertainan argument with Miss Martha Peckham. Things would have to go onas they would, until--

  Suddenly Janice heard voices in the kitchen-- Miss Peckham'shigh-pitched voice and another. Janice saw that her father wasquiet and did not notice, so she got up from his side and stoleto the kitchen door to listen.

  "Well, ma'am? exclaimed Miss Peckham, don't see as it's any moreof your business than 'tis mine. I'm makin' this gruel--"

  "And I will finish preparing the dinner, if you do not mind, MissPeckham," said the soft voice Mrs. Carringford. "I see thatJanice has it almost ready. Do you think, Miss Peckham, that aman with a broken leg needs gruel?"

  "Well, I couldn't find nothing to make broth out of--"

  "Or broth?" pursued Mrs. Carringford. "I know Mr. Day'sappetite, and I do not believe that broken leg

  has made it any the less hearty."

  "Seems to me you know a good deal!" snapped Miss Peckham."Specially about this kitchen."

  "You know, I have been working here for some time," Mrs.Carringford said. "Thank you, Miss Peckham. You need not stay.If there is anything we need you for, I will let you know.Good-night."

  The spinster banged out at the kitchen door without even cominginto the front part of the house.

  "Not even to 'wash her hands of us' again!" giggled Janice, whoran out into the kitchen with a cry of joy.

  "Oh, Mrs. Carringford!" she said, throwing her arms about thewoman's neck, "have you really come to stay?"

  "I guess I shall have to, my dear. Daytimes, anyway," said Amy'smother, kissing her. "You'd soon go to rack and ruin here withthe neighbors coming in and littering everything up. Yes, tellyour father I will accept the offer he made me. And now, we'llhave dinner just as soon as possible. How is he?"

  "He says he is all right," gasped Janice, catching her breath."And he says there is always a silver lining to the very blackestcloud. Now I know he's right. You are the silver lining to thiscloud, Mrs. Carringford--you really, truly are!"