XXI.
MAY 30.
ERNEST asked me to go with him to see one of his patients, as he often does when there is a lull in the tempest at home.We both feel that as we have so little money of our own to give away, it is a privilege to give what services and what cheering words we can.As Itook it for granted that we were going to see some poor old woman, Iput up several little packages of tea and sugar, with which Susan Green always keeps me supplied, and added a bottle of my own raspberry vinegar, which never comes amiss, I find, to old people.
Ernest drove to the door of an aristocratic-looking house, and helped me to alight in his usual silence.
"It is probably one of the servants we are going to visit," Ithought, within myself; "but I am surprised at his bringing me.The family may not approve it."The next thing I knew I found myself being introduced to a beautiful, brilliant young lady, who sat in a wheel-chair like a queen on a throne in a room full of tasteful ornaments, flowers and birds.Now, I had come away just as I was, when Ernest called me, and that "was"means a very plain gingham dress wherein I had been darning stockings all the morning.I suppose a saint wouldn't have cared for that, but I did, and for a moment stood the picture of confusion, my hands full of oddly shaped parcels and my face all in a flame.
My wife, Miss Clifford," I heard Ernest say, and then I caught the curious, puzzled look in her eyes, which said as plainly as words could do:
"What has the creature brought me?"
I ask your pardon, Miss Clifford," I said, thinking it best to speak out just the honest truth, "but I supposed the doctor was taking me to see some of his old women, and so I have brought you a 1ittle tea, and a little sugar, and a bottle of raspberry vinegar!""How delicious!'.cried she."It really rests me to meet with a genuine human being at last! Why didn't you make some stiff, prim speech, instead of telling the truth out and out? I declare I mean to keep all you have brought me, just for the fun of the thing."This put me at ease, and I forgot all about my dress in a moment.
"I see you are just what the doctor boasted you were," she went on.
"But he never would bring you to see me before.I suppose he has told you why I could not go to see you?""To tell the truth, he never speaks to me of his patients unless he thinks I can be of use to them.""I dare say I do not look much like an invalid," said she; "but here I am, tied to this chair.It is six months since I could bear my own weight upon my feet."I saw then that though her face was so bright and full of color, her hand was thin and transparent.But what a picture she made as she sat there in magnificent beauty, relieved by such a back-ground of foliage, flowers, and artistic objects!
"I told the doctor the other day that life was nothing but a humbug, and he said he should bring me a remedy against that false notion the next time he came, and you, I suppose, are that remedy," she continued."Come, begin; I am ready to take any number of doses."I could only laugh and try to look daggers at Ernest, who sat looking over a magazine, apparently absorbed in its contents.
"Ah!" she cried, nodding her head sagaciously, "I knew you would agree with me.""Agree with you in calling life a humbug!" I cried, now fairly aroused."Death itself is not more a reality!""I have not tried death yet," she said, more seriously; "but I have tried life twenty-five years and I know all about it.It is eat, drink, sleep yawn and be bored.It is what shall I wear, where shall I go, how shall I get rid of the time; it says, 'How do you do? how is your husband? How are your children? '-it means, 'Now I have asked all the conventional questions, and I don't care a fig what their answer may be.'""This may be its meaning to some persons," I replied, "for instance, to mere pleasure-seekers.But of course it is interpreted quite differently by others.To some it means nothing but a dull, hopeless struggle with poverty and hardship- and its whole aspect might be changed to them, should those who do not know what to do to get rid of the time, spend their surplus leisure in making this struggle less brutalizing.""Yes, I have heard such doctrine, and at one time I tried charity myself.I picked up a dozen or so of dirty little wretches out of the streets, and undertook to clothe and teach them.I might as well have tried to instruct the chairs in my room.Besides the whole house had to be aired after they had gone, and mamma missed two teaspoons and a fork and was perfectly disgusted with the whole thing.Then I fell to knitting socks for babies, but they only occupied my hands, and my head felt as empty as ever.Mamma took me off on a journey, as she always did when I took to moping, and that diverted me for a while.
