CHAPTER XXV. A MUCH LOVED GIRL
"Geraldine, dearie, why don't you get up? Aren't you feeling well thismorning?"
It was the day after the sleigh-ride party. Mrs. Gray had purposelypermitted the girl to sleep late, but now it was nearing the hour ofnoon.
Geraldine tossed restlessly and her face was feverish. "Oh, Mrs. Gray,"she said, "I have such a headache. I tried to get up, but I couldn't.Then I tried to call, but you did not hear."
The little old lady was truly worried. She placed her cool hand on thehot forehead, and then she hurried from the room, promising to be back ina few moments. She went at once to the Colonel's study, hoping that hehad returned from his morning constitutional, but he was not there. Goingto the telephone, Mrs. Gray was soon talking to Doctor Carson.
"I'm so afraid our little girl has been exposed to some contagiousdisease," she said. "Won't you please come over at once?"
The kindly doctor was at the house fifteen minutes later and with him wasthe Colonel, whom he had met on the highway.
The doctor examined the girl, who was too listless to heed what was goingon. "Geraldine is very ill," he said seriously.
"Come to think of it, Myra Comely told me that three of the girls,Geraldine among them, had brought her the wonderful news that she had totell me about her mother's brother. Mrs. Comely had been ill for nearly aweek with a form of influenza which is often fatal." Then, noting thestartled expressions on the faces of his listeners, the doctor added: "Donot be alarmed, however, for we have taken _this_ case in time. I am sureof that."
But, as days passed, the Colonel and Mrs. Gray were not so sure, for, inspite of their constant and loving care, Geraldine grew weaker. Thelittle old lady would permit no one else to nurse the girl, but day andnight she was near the bedside, ministering with an unceasing tendernessand devotion.
The Colonel procured two capable young women to assist in the household.They were Matilda and Susan Rankin, who for years had worked for theMorrisons in Dorchester. Merry Lee and Doris Drexel, having been equallyexposed, were kept home from school for a week, but they had evidentlybeen able to resist the contagion and were not ill.
Jack Lee called often to inquire about Geraldine, and his heart was heavywhen the news was so discouraging. Then, at last, came a day when, withhope almost gone, the Colonel, with an aching heart, cabled toGeraldine's father. He was in England still and he could not reachSunnyside for two weeks, but Geraldine often called faintly for her"Dad," and the Colonel knew that he must send for him.
"I expect the crisis tonight," the doctor said late one afternoon. JackLee, hearing of this, sat up with Danny O'Neil in his room over thegarage. Alfred had promised to place a lighted candle in a rear window assoon as the doctor believed Geraldine to be out of danger.
The long dark hours passed and it was nearing dawn. Danny had fallenasleep, but Jack, alone in the dark, sat watching for the candle whichdid not appear.
At sunrise, as his friend had not awakened, Jack, unable to stand thesuspense longer, went out in the garden hoping that he might see someonefrom whom he might make inquiries. As he passed beneath a window, it wassoftly opened and Alfred leaned out. His face was drawn and white.
"Jack," he called, "please telephone Merry and the other girls and tellthem that Geraldine seems to be asleep. We thought for hours that shewould never awaken, but now the doctor reports that her breathing is morenormal. He is confident that the worst is over."
The listener's face brightened. "Good!" he ejaculated. "Is there anythingyou want from town? I am going to take Danny home with me to breakfastand he can bring back anything you may need."
Alfred disappeared to consult the housekeeper as to what supplies mightbe required, and Jack, leaping up the garage stairs two steps at a time,found Danny awake and wondering what had become of his friend.
He, too, was indeed glad to hear the good news, and a few moments later,when Alfred had dropped a list out to them, they drove away with lighterhearts than they had had in many a day.
Great was the rejoicing in the town of Sunnyside as the news wastelephoned from one home to another, and a week later, when Geraldine wasstrong enough to sit up for a few hours in her sunny bow window, the sixgirls, wrapped in furs, stood beneath it waving to her and smiling andnodding to assure her of their friendship. When they were gone, therewere tears in the eyes of the invalid as she turned toward the everwatchful old lady who sat sewing nearby.
"Mrs. Gray," she said, "am I different or is everyone else different?When I first came I did not want to know these country girls, but now Ilove them all dearly." Then, before the little old lady could reply,Geraldine asked, "Is my Dad coming today?"
The housekeeper looked troubled. The Colonel could not account for thefact that Mr. Morrison had not been heard from since he first cabled thathe would return as soon as possible.
"Surely he will be here tomorrow by the latest," was the evasive answer.
The girl's gaze then rested on the soft, silvery hair of the bent head.
"Mrs. Gray, why have you been so good to me? An own relation couldn'thave been kinder. You have tired yourself all out, I know, caring for meday and night. I don't deserve it."
There was a twinkle in the eyes that looked at the girl. "I've beenplaying a game, Geraldine," she said. "I've been pretending that you weremy make-believe granddaughter." Then wistfully she added: "You don't knowhow all these last ten, long years I have yearned for someone who reallybelonged to me, someone to care for."
Before Geraldine could reply, the door bell pealed.