Other Things Being Equal

Chapter VI

CHAPTER VI 'HEY WALKED directly into a bare, dark hallway* There was no one stirring, and Kemp softly opened the door of one of several rooms leading into the passage* Here a broad band of yellow sunlight fell unrestrained athwart the waxen face of a sleeping boy* The rest of the simple, meager room was in shadow* The doctor noiselessly closed the door behind them, and stepped to the bed, which was covered with a heavy gray blanket* The boy on the bed, even in sleep, would not have been accounted good-looking; there was a heaviness of feature, a plenitude of freckles, a shock of lack-lustre hair, which made poor Bob Bard anything but a thing of beauty* And yet, as Ruth looked at him, and saw Kemp's firm white hand placed gently on the low forehead, a great wave of tender pity took possession of her* Sleep puts the strongest at the mercy of the watcher, and there was a loneliness about this particular boy, a silent, expressive plea for protection, irresistibly appealing* Ruth longed to raise the rough, lonely head to her bosom* "It would be too bad to wake him now," said the doctor, in a low voice, coming back to her side* "He is sleeping restfully, and that's what he needs* I'm sorry our little plan is frustrated, but it would be senseless to wait; there's no telling when he'll wake up." A shade of disappointment passed over the girl's face, which he noticed* "But," he added hurriedly, "you might leave your roses where he can't help seeing them* His wondering over their mysterious appearance will rouse him sufficiently for one day*" He watched her move lightly across the room and fill a cup ioo OTHER THINQS BEINQ EQUAL 101 with water from an earthenware pitcher. She looked about for a second as if hesitating where to place it, and then quickly drew up a high-backed wooden chair close to the bedside and placed the cup with the roses upon it so that they looked straight into the face of the slumbering lad, "We'll go now," Kemp said, and opened the door for Ruth to pass before him* She followed him with lingering step, but on the threshold drew back, a thoughtful little pucker on her brow. "I think I'll wait after all," she explained. "I should like to talk with Bob a little." The doctor looked slightly annoyed. "You'd better drive home with me," he objected. "Thank you," she said, drawing farther back into the room. "The Jackson Street cars are very convenient." "But I should prefer to have you come with me," he insisted. "But I don't want to," she resisted gently. "I have decided to stay." "That settles it, then," smiled Kemp, and shaking her hand, he went out alone. "When my lady will, she will; and when she won't, she won't," he mused, gathering up his reins. But the terminal point to the thought was a very wistful smile. Ruth, left alone, seated herself on the one other chair near the foot of the bed. Strange to say, though she gazed at Bob, her thoughts had flown out of the room. She was still conscious of a new intoxication in her veins. Had she cared to look the cause boldly in the face, she would have known that, to begin with, she was flattered by Dr. Kemp's unmistakable desire for her assistance . She did admit that he must at least have looked at her with friendly eyes—but here her modesty drew a line even for herself, and, giving herself a quick mental shake, she saw that two lambent brown eyes were looking wonderingly at her from the face of the sick lad. "How do you feel now, Bob?" she asked, going to him and smiling down at him. The boy forgot to answer. 102 OTHER THINQS BEINQ EQUAL "The doctor brought me here," she went on brightly; "but you were asleep and he couldn't wait. Are you feeling better, Bob?" The soft, star-like eyes did not wander in their gaze* "Why did you come?" he breathed finally* His voice was surprisingly musical "Why?" faltered Ruth* "Oh, to bring you these roses* Do you like flowers, Bob?" She lifted the mass of delicate buds toward him* Two pale, transparent hands went...