“How is the other girl, if you please?” she asked shyly, when she brought the doctor’s horse for him to mount.
“Gertrude Lorimer? Oh, I was there to-day, and I don’t like the look of her. I never saw a girl who tried harder to do what was expected of her, and to rise to the needs of the occasion; but she hasn’t got it in her, and she can’t do it. Mrs. Lorimer is in bed, and her husband ought to be; the boy Patsey has got a bad chill and is in bed too. Those children will go bathing when they are hot, in the icy cold springs on the clearing, and they always are getting chills,” he answered, with a disapproving shake of his head, and was about to ride away. But Nell had not done with him yet.
“Could you—would you mind looking round for some work for me to do? Mrs. Munson will soon be well enough to spare me now, and I have nowhere to go. I am very strong, and I can do outdoor work, or anything rough,” she said, flushing from sheer nervousness, lest he should ask her questions difficult to answer.
“I will see what I can do. Don’t they treat you kindly here?” he asked, with a jerk of his head towards the house.
“Oh yes; it isn’t that. But I came without being asked, and so, as soon as I can be spared, I would rather move on. Can’t you see that I must?” she said earnestly.
He laughed at this; then said in a graver tone, “Well, have patience until I come again; I shall be this way in a week, I dare say. Meanwhile, I will talk to Mrs. Shaw, and we will see what can be done for you. In any case, you can’t be spared from here until Mrs. Munson is able to leave her bed, you know.”
“That won’t be very long, for she talks of getting up to-morrow,” Nell replied, drawing down the corners of her mouth, for she was clear sighted enough to see that Mrs. Munson, able to get about the house, would be a person to be reckoned with.
“Ah, I shouldn’t be surprised if she does, for she is one of the very tough sort. You must humour her as much as possible, and she will get better all the sooner.”
Nell went back to the house with a flutter of hope at her heart. Perhaps when the doctor came again he would be able to tell her of some one in need of a strong girl who was rather ignorant. Her thirst for knowledge of all sorts made her value her own attainments at a very low figure, although in reality she was not nearly so ignorant in matters domestic as she supposed.
The next morning she commenced a very thorough cleaning of the farmhouse. Starting with the loft where Giles slept, she routed out the dust, scrubbing and scouring with such zeal and energy that Mrs. Munson held up her hands in amazement, and the silent Mr. Bailey stared at her more admiringly than ever.
When the house had been cleaned to her mind, and the clothes all washed, she made a great batch of bread, and was taking the last loaf from the oven when the doctor arrived, two days before he was expected.
He was not riding this time, but driving Dobbin in a high two-wheeled cart, very light and strong, as indeed any vehicle would need to be that was used on those forest trails.
Mrs. Munson was sitting in a rocking-chair by the stove, giving Nell a great deal of advice on the baking of bread. But she held up her hands in dismay at the sight of the doctor, and exclaimed about the length of the bill which she would have to pay.
“You have no need to trouble yourself on that score, Mrs. Munson; I have not come to see you this morning, but to fetch Miss Hamblyn away,” he said gravely.
“What for?” demanded the invalid, in surprise, her tone resentful, although an hour before she had been quietly planning to get rid of her nurse as soon as possible, because it cost more to keep three people than two.
“Because some one needs her even more than you do now,” he replied. Then turning to Nell, who was standing mute with surprise, he went on, “I have been over to Lorimer’s Clearing this morning, and find they are in a terrible plight. Mrs. Lorimer is still in bed and unable to move, although she is suffering more from the shock of losing her sons than anything else. Abe Lorimer is ill this morning, only just able to creep from one room to another, and Gertrude, poor child, can’t lift her head from her pillow. There isn’t a soul to do anything except Flossie, the little lame girl, and she has the baby to look after. Will you go and help them, as you have helped Mrs. Munson?”
“Thank you; yes, I shall be pleased to go,” replied Nell, with a radiant face, for her heart was strangely stirred to think that it was the other girl whom she was going to help. Numberless were the fancies she had cherished concerning that other girl, and she had greatly longed to see her.
“I don’t know how I shall get on without you,” Mrs. Munson said, in a grudging tone; and the radiance on Nell’s face faded out.
“I think you can manage now, if you don’t try to do too much,” she said gently. “The house is all clean, you know; the washing is done up, and I’ve baked enough bread to last a week.”
“I’ll have to do, I suppose, since you are so set on going, though Giles will seem but a clumsy cook after you.”
“Go and get your bonnet on, and pack your things; I can’t wait more than half an hour, and if you’ve got more than one trunk, you will have to leave it behind,” Dr. Shaw said, with a nod of kindly dismissal to Nell.
She disappeared into Mrs. Munson’s room, donned her blue merino dress and the bonnet with the pink roses; then, because there was a stiff breeze blowing, and she was hot from her labours at bread-making, she flung the black silk cape with the bead trimming round her shoulders, and fairly held her breath with awe at the grandeur of her own appearance.
A little sigh escaped her because her shoes were so worn, but they were very black and shiny, which hid their shabbiness a little.
When her toilet was completed, she took up her bundle and went back to the outer room, where Dr. Shaw sat talking to Mrs. Munson.
“Well, of all the surprising things! Why, what made you turn yourself into such an old woman?” he asked, with a disapproving look at the bonnet and cloak, which were better fitted in point of age for Mrs. Munson.
“Don’t I look right? I’m very sorry, but I haven’t got anything else to wear,” Nell said; then added, with a ripple of laughter, “But perhaps the folks will like me all the better if I look old. They will think I’m the more able to do things.”
“They will soon find that out without any telling,” the doctor said, as he pushed back his chair and rose to go.
Mrs. Munson, who had all this time been fumbling with a yellow canvas money-bag now asked, in a rather acid tone—
“How much am I in your debt, Miss Hamblyn, for the work you’ve done?”
An astonished look came into Nell’s dark eyes, and she answered impulsively—
“Why, you are not in my debt at all, of course; and I am very much obliged to you for letting me stay.”
“That is all nonsense!” broke in the doctor, as he shook his head at Nell. “You must give Miss Hamblyn what you think fit, Mrs. Munson. She has got her living to earn, and cannot afford to do her work for nothing.”
“She has had her living, and good living too, for we don’t stint food in this house,” Mrs. Munson said grudgingly, for she was very much disposed to take Nell’s view of the matter, and restore the yellow canvas bag to her pocket with its contents undisturbed.
But this the doctor would not permit. “Something you must pay, Mrs. Munson, if only as a thank-offering, for, remember, it is the nursing you have had which has saved your life,” he said, sticking to his point with so much pertinacity that in the end Mrs. Munson produced two dollars from the yellow bag, which she bestowed upon Nell with the air of one who confers a very great favour indeed.
“It will help towards buying you a pair of boots, and it won’t be before