Belford's Magazine, Vol II, No. 10, March 1889. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.
reassuring gaze. It was strange, but it was the first time she had noticed how fine his eyes were.
"That's right," he said; "I knew you were not a coward. Now you must watch the child's face carefully, and at the first movement or sign of returning consciousness you must douse some chloroform out of that bottle inside that towel, and hold it cone-shaped, as it is, over the baby's nose and mouth; I'll tell you how long. Don't be frightened; there's not the least danger of giving too much, and the operation is extremely simple and short."
As he spoke the baby contracted its face a little and turned its head.
"See – I'll show you," he said. And wetting the towel from the bottle he put it over the baby's face and held it there a little while, looking up at Kate, into whose face a sweet compassion had gathered, softening and beautifying it wonderfully. She was not looking at him, but down at the baby; and with a wonderful movement of tenderness she laid her fair hand on the poor deformed feet and gave them a little gentle pressure. She was utterly unconscious of herself or she couldn't have done it. Theoretically, she hated children.
The doctor now took his position at the foot of the table, and holding one of the child's feet in his hand, felt with his thumb and forefinger for a second and then made a slight incision. Kate saw one big drop of blood come out and then turned her eyes to the face of the child, as she had been instructed. The little creature was sleeping as sweetly as if in a noonday nap, and looked so unconscious and placid that it seemed all the more pitiful. She bent over and smoothed the bright curls, and then kissed the soft cheek.
"Poor little man!" she murmured, softly. She thought no one heard. Suddenly, behind her, there was a little snap.
"Hear that?" said the doctor, cheerfully. "That's all right."
She looked around and saw he was holding his thumb over the little cut he had made, and looking across at her with an encouraging smile.
"You're first-rate," he said, heartily. "I wish that screaming idiot could see how a brave woman behaves."
"Ah, but she is its mother!" said Kate, in a tender voice, "and it's such a little dear. I don't wonder she loves it!"
Was this really Kate Severn? He didn't have time to think whether it was or not, for the blood had stopped, and he now took up the other foot. At the same time the baby moved again and gave a little whimper. Kate promptly doused the towel and put it over the child's face, who, at its next breath, relapsed into unconsciousness.
"First-rate!" said the doctor again. "That will do for this time," and then proceeded with the other foot. Again Kate heard the little snapping sound, as the tendon was cut, though her eyes were fixed upon the placid face of the child.
"Now look, if you want to see a pair of straight little feet," said the doctor. And she turned around and saw, as he had said, instead of that curled deformity, two natural childish feet.
"Wonderful!" said the girl. "Oh, how thankful you must be that you are capable of such a thing as this!"
The doctor laughed his cheery, pleasant laugh.
"Why next to nobody could do that," he said. But it was plain that her commendation pleased him.
He then rapidly explained to her how into the vessel of warm water standing by she was to dip the little rolls of plaster spread between long strips of gauze, and rolled up like bolts of ribbon, and squeeze them out and hand them to him very promptly as he needed them.
"Never mind watching the baby," he said. "If it cries you must clap the towel over its face. You've got enough to do to watch me, and hand me the plaster as I need it."
Kate obeyed implicitly, and in a little while both feet had been deftly and neatly bandaged, from the toes to the knees, with the plaster bandages, and the little creature, appearing suddenly unnaturally long from this transformation, was pronounced intact.
"That's all," said the doctor. "As soon as I wash my hands I'll lay it on the bed."
"Let me," said Kate, hastily drying her own hands. And while he pretended to be engrossed in his ablutions he watched her curiously, as she lifted the baby tenderly and laid it on the bed. As she put it down she bent over and kissed it, murmuring sweet words, as a mother might have done.
"You must have the legs very straight," he said, coming over and standing at the bed's foot that he might the more accurately see them. "In an hour the plaster will be perfectly hard, and then they can move it anywhere. That's a good job, if we did do it ourselves," he said, with a bright smile.
"Oh, may I go and tell the mother?" said Kate, eagerly. "How happy she'll be to see those straight little legs!"
She went out and called the mother in. The woman's excitement had changed into stolidness, and she showed far less feeling in the matter than Kate had done. She looked at the child, without speaking, and then said she guessed she'd better clean up all this muss, and proceeded to set things to rights. Kate was indignant, and showed it in the look she cast at Dr. Brett, who smiled indulgently in reply, and said in a low tone, coming near her, "That manner is half embarrassment. I'm sure she really cares."
While he was wiping and putting up his instruments, Kate went back to the bed, a little whimper having warned her that baby was coming to.
"Don't let him move if you can help it," said the doctor, and she dropped on her knees by the bed, and began to talk to the child in the prettiest way, taking out her watch and showing it to him, holding it to his ear that he might hear it tick, and occupying his attention so successfully that he lay quite still, gazing up at her with great earnest brown eyes, and giving a simultaneous little grin and grunt now and then. Dr. Brett came up and stood behind her for a few moments unnoticed, observing her with a strange scrutiny. "Who would have expected a thing like this from this queer girl?" he said to himself. Then, aloud, he informed Miss Severn that the baby might safely be left to its mother now; and she got up at once, and, seeing he was ready to go, followed him out of the house.
He unfastened her horse and brought the cart to the gate, and, as she mounted to her seat and took the reins, she looked down at him and said impulsively:
"I'm so glad you let me help you. Is this your life – going about all the time doing good and curing evil? I never thought how beautiful it was. If I can ever give you help again, let me do it; won't you?"
"That you shall," he said, and seemed about to add more, but something stopped the words in his throat, and she drove off, wondering what they would have been. The mingled surprise and delight in his eyes made her long to know them. As she turned a bend in the road, she looked back and saw Dr. Brett standing in the door among the children, with a hand on the head of one of the untidy little boys, looking down at him kindly. His figure was certainly both handsome and impressive, and his head and profile fine. She wondered she had never noticed this before – but then she had never before been really interested in him. She wondered suddenly how old he was.
All the way home she was thinking about him, and how good, and cheerful, and strong, and clever he was; how everyone loved him, and what a power he had of making people feel better and brighter as soon as he came into the room. She began to recall accounts she had heard, with rather a listless interest, of difficult and successful surgical operations he had performed, and inducements offered him to go to big cities and make money, of which he had refused to avail himself simply because he loved his own people and had his hands full of work where he was. This was a fine and uncommon feeling, the girl reflected. Why had she never appreciated Dr. Brett before? By the time she reached home she had worked herself into quite a fever of appreciation, and she had a glowing account of the operation to give to her mother, who listened with great interest.
"How old is he, mamma?" she said, as she concluded.
"I really don't know. I never thought," said her mother. "He can't be much over thirty."
"Do ask him his age – I'd really like to know. It's wonderful for such a young man to be so much as he is. I never thought of his being young before – but thirty is young, of course."
After that morning's experience Kate and Dr. Brett became fast friends – on a very different footing from the old one. He told her about his patients, and took her with him sometimes to see them,