CHAPTER XVIII.
NO ROOM FOR DOLLY.
Old Oliver rang the house-bell very quietly, for Dolly seemed to beasleep again, and lay quite still in Tony's arms, which were growingstiff, and benumbed by the cold. The door was opened by a porter, whoseface was strange to them both, for he had only come in for the day whilethe usual one took holiday. Old Oliver presented himself in front, andpointed at his little grandchild as Tony held her in his arms while hespoke to the porter in a voice which trembled greatly.
"We've brought you our little girl, who is very ill," he said, "butshe'll soon get well in here, I know. I'd like to see the doctor, andtell him all about her."
"We're quite full," answered the porter, filling up the doorway.
"Full?" repeated old Oliver, in a tone of questioning.
"Ay! all our cots are full," he replied, "chockfull. There ain't no moreroom. We've turned two or three away this morning, when they came at theright time. This isn't the right time to bring any child here."
"But my little love is very ill," continued old Oliver; "this is theright place, isn't it? The place where they nurse little childrenwho are ill?"
"It's all right," said the porter, "it's the right place enough, onlyit's brimful, and running over, as you may say. We couldn't take in onemore, if it was ever so. But you may come in and sit down in the hall fora minute or two, while I fetch one of the ladies."
Old Oliver and Tony entered, and sat down upon a bench inside. There wasthe broad staircase, with its shallow steps, which Dolly's tiny feet hadclimbed so easily, and it led up to the warm, pleasant nurseries, wherelittle children were already falling asleep, almost painlessly, in theircosy cots. Tony could not believe that there was not room for theirdarling, who had been so willing to come to the place she knew so well,yet a sob broke from his lips, which disturbed Dolly in her sleep, forshe moaned once or twice, and stirred uneasily in his arms. The old manleaned his hands upon the top of his stick, and rested his white headupon them, until they heard light footsteps, and the rustling of adress, and they saw a lady coming down stairs to them.
"I think there's some mistake here, ma'am," said Oliver, his eyewandering absently about the large entrance-hall; "this is the Hospitalfor Sick Children, I think, and I've brought my little grandchild here,who is very ill indeed, yet the man at the door says there's no room forher. I think it must be a mistake."
"No," said the lady; "I am sorry to say it is no mistake. We are quitefull; there is not room for even one more. Indeed, we have been obligedto send cases away before to-day. Who is your recommendation from?"
"I didn't know you'd want any recommendation," answered old Oliver, verymournfully; "she's very ill, and you could cure her here, and takebetter care of her than Tony and me, and I thought that was enough. Inever thought of getting any recommendation, and I don't know where Icould get one."
"Mr. Ross 'ud give us one," said Tony, eagerly.
"Yet even then," answered the lady, "we could not take her in until someof the cots are empty."
"You don't know me," interrupted Tony, eagerly; "but Mr. Ross broughtme here, a year ago now, and they cured me, and set me up strongerthan ever. They was so wery kind to me, that I couldn't think ofanythink else save bringing our little girl to 'em. I'm sure they'dtake her in, if they only knew it was her. You jest say as it's Tonyand Dolly, as everybody took such notice of, and they'll never turn heraway, I'm sure."
"I wish we could take her," said the lady, with tears in her eyes; "butit is impossible. We should be obliged to turn some other child out, andthat could not be done to-night. You had better bring her again in themorning, and we'll see if there is any one well enough to make room forher. Let me look at the poor child for a minute."
She lifted up the collar of Tony's blue jacket, which covered Dolly'sface, and looked down at it pitifully. It was quite white now, and waspinched and hollow, with large blue eyes shining too brightly. Shestretched out her arms to the lady, and made a great effort to smile.
"Put Dolly into a pretty bed," she murmured, "where the sun shines, andshe'll soon get well and go home again to gan-pa."
"What can I do?" cried the lady, the tears now running down her face."The place is quite full; we cannot take in one more, not one. Bring herhere again in the morning, and we will see what can be done."
"How many children have you got here?" asked old Oliver.
"We have only seventy-five cots," she answered, sobbing; "and in a winterlike this they're always full."
"Only seventy-five!" repeated the old man, very sorrowfully. "Onlyseventy-five, and there are hundreds and hundreds of little children illin London! They are ill in houses like mine, where the sun never shines.Is there no other place like this we could take our little love to?"
"There are two or three other Hospitals," she answered, "but they are along way off, and none of them as large as ours. They are sure to be fulljust now. I think there are not more than a hundred and fifty cots in allLondon for sick children."
"Then there's no room for my Dolly?" he said.
The lady shook her head without speaking, for she had her handkerchief upto her face.
"Eh!" cried old Oliver in a wailing voice, "I don't know whatever thedear Lord 'ill say to that."
He made a sign to Tony that they must be going home again; and the boyraised himself up with a strange weight and burden upon his heart. OldOliver put his stick down, and took Dolly into his own arms, and laid herhead down on his breast.
"Let me carry her a little way, Tony," he said. "She's as light as afeather, even to poor old grandpa. I'd like to carry my little love a bitof the way home."
"I'll tell you what I can do," said the lady, wrapping Dolly up andkissing her before she covered her pale face, "if you will tell me whereyou live I will speak to the doctor as soon as he comes in--for he is outjust now--and perhaps he will come to see her. He knows a great dealabout children, and is fond of them."
"Thank you, thank you kindly, ma'am," answered old Oliver, feeling alittle comforted. But when they stood outside, and the bleak wind blewabout them, and he could see the soft glimmer of the light in thewindows, within which other children were safely sheltered andcarefully tended, his spirit sank again. He tottered now and then underhis light burden; but he could not be persuaded to give up his littlechild to Tony again. These streets were quiet, with handsome houses oneach side, and from one and another there came bursts of music andlaughter as they passed by; yet Tony could catch most of the wordswhich the old man was speaking.
NO ROOM FOR DOLLY]
"Dear Lord," he said, "there's only room for seventy-five of thy littlelambs that are pining and wasting away in every dark street and alleylike mine. Whatever can thy people be thinking about? They've got theirown dear little children, who are ill sometimes, spite of all theircare; and they can send for the doctor, and do all that's possible,never looking at the money it costs; but when they are well again theynever think of the poor little ones who are sick and dying, with nobodyto help them or care for them as I care for this little one. Oh, Lord,Lord! let my little love live! Yet thou knows what is best, and thou'ltdo what is best. Thou loves her more than I do; and see, Lord, she isvery ill indeed."
They reached home at last, after a weary and heartbroken journey, andcarried Dolly in and laid her upon old Oliver's bed. She was wide awakenow, and looked very peaceful, smiling quietly into both their faces asthey bent over her. Tony gazed deep down into her eyes, and met a glancefrom them which sent a strange tremor through him. He crept silentlyaway, and stole into his dark bed under the counter, where he stretchedhimself upon his face, and buried his mouth in the chaff pillow to chokehis sobs. What was going to happen to Dolly? What could it be that madehim afraid of looking again into her patient and tranquil little face?