Armitage undressed her. She was clean and neat, but the poor little body was painfully thin. Then they carried her to the bath. Jane rubbed her softly and she gave some responsive sighs.
“What a pretty lot of little curls and fine as silk. I do wonder who she can be?”
“She’s the little nurse girl who brings those babies, twins I suppose they are, and sits on the stoop over opposite.”
“What happened?”
“Well it’s some sort of a collapse. Now I’ll find a nice nightgown, and we’ll see what the doctor says.”
Marilla opened her eyes. They were a sort of blueish gray, but now very heavy and dull. Her lips moved, but the tone was very low. It sounded as if she said “fairy godmother” and Miss Armitage smiled.
“Oh, poor little thing!”
Dr. Richards flew around in his auto.
“Oh, I thought something had happened to you,” he began.
“It has,” and she detailed the simple story.
He followed her up to the room. It was such a lovely, restful room. A white bed in the alcove, white window drapery, a carpet with considerable light blue in it, a dressing case, a writing desk, some books and pictures, mostly Madonnas.
“Poor child,” he said. “She’s been worked too hard. All her strength seems gone. And a case of heat prostration. It’s been an awful day. Who is she?”
Miss Armitage told over the incident. “I have seen her sitting there several times. It is shady in the afternoon.”
“Two fat babies,” and he laughed. “I should think one would be enough for such a child to manage. Overwork and underfeeding I think, and the heat. I’ll see if I can rouse her.”
Marilla opened her eyes and the lids seemed to fall from absolute weariness. The lips moved but made no sound.
“It is a kind of comatose state. Not knowing all that is back of it I can’t quite make up my mind. If this awful heat would let up! I’ll leave some drops to be given to her and will come in one my first round in the morning. I haven’t been to the Settlement House yet.”
“Oh, you must go. That little Mary Burns died at noon, and her mother is half crazy over it. Poor little thing, deformed and all that. This child has a nice straight body and a fine smooth skin. I’ll go round in Arch street and see what I can learn about her.”
“She looks worth saving if life really holds anything for her. Poor things! Why are so many sent into the world ‘just to toil.’”
“I was going over–”
“Never mind now. I’ll attend to it all, and see the Burns’ priest. Don’t be worried. These drops will keep up her strength,” nodding to Marilla. “And I will report in the morning.”
Dr. Richards went his way. Miss Armitage sat and considered. Perhaps it would be as well to go to Mrs. Borden’s. They would be feeling much alarmed, no doubt. She explained to Jane and put on her hat again and picked up her sun umbrella, for some streets were still in a glow. This was the best part of the city however, and there were some fine trees.
She stopped and looked in a directory. There was only one Borden living on Arch street, a Mr. John Borden, lawyer. She made a note of the number. Arch street was some distance farther west, and then only a block or so. A very nice looking three-story brick with a stone stoop. She mounted and rang the bell. There certainly was a child or children crying.
A young woman much distraught answered the door. And now positive howls greeted her ears.
“We are in such trouble,” apologized the woman.
“I am Miss Armitage and live in Loraine place, nearly opposite where the little girl fainted. Did the babies get home safely?”
“Oh, we are so glad! Won’t you please come upstairs for my sister can’t leave the children. We have been almost crazy! One boy said she fell off the steps. Is she much hurt?”
“She had a bad fainting spell. The doctor came and he hardly knows what to think until tomorrow. The policeman proposed sending her to the Hospital, but I am one of the managers of the Settlement House in Beacon street, so I had her brought over to my house. A fall, you said?”
“That was what a boy said – that she tumbled off the step. Oh, Pansy dear, do hush! You miss Marilla, don’t you? The best little nurse in all the world. Oh, what can we do without her!”
Mrs. Borden was pacing the floor with the baby’s head against her shoulder and gently patting her. She did not scream now, but sobbed in a very sleepy fashion.
“You see, we are to start on Saturday noon, and we shall not come back until the middle of September. We thought it would be so nice for Marilla, too, she’d kind of run down though she wasn’t at all ill. Bridget worried that she ate so little and she was growing thin.”
“How long has she been with you?”
“I took her from an institution – the Bethany Home – about the middle of October. She was just twelve, the Matron said. I think she was very glad to come. She’s had a good home and plenty to eat. And one funny thing is that Bridget took such a fancy to her, and though Bridget’s good as gold, she has some queer streaks.”
Mrs. Borden sat down and drew a long breath. Pansy had fallen asleep at last.
“And we never let her lift the children or carry them up and down. I think babies are sometimes injured for life that way in falling. They used to sit on the rug and she’d tell them stories. I think she must have made them out of her head – funny things and she’d act them off and the babies would laugh and laugh – it was as good as a play. They seemed to understand every word. Marilla was a born nurse girl. But what can we do? We must have someone, and there’s only such a little time.”
Miss Armitage was thinking.
“Perhaps I might help you out,” she said kindly. “There is a young girl with us who worked in a factory until she gave out. We sent her to the Rest House in the country and she did improve, but they wouldn’t take her back in the factory. She’s a nice pleasant girl about seventeen.”
“Oh, how good of you to think of it! But I can’t pay high wages, for there’ll be her board and it won’t be hard. When the babies are well they are as good as kittens though they can’t scamper around so much. And they’re so fat they won’t walk very soon. It’ll just be sitting round and amusing them and looking after their food. I couldn’t give more than three dollars a week – we are not at all rich,” with a short laugh of apology.
“I think Ellen would come for awhile.”
“And I should want Marilla as soon as she was well enough. You see she’s bound-out to me, and we all like her so much. I don’t see what could have happened to her. She has been out in the fresh air most of the time and we always tell her to go slow with the babies, not rush along in the heat. What did she say?”
“Oh, she hasn’t spoken at all. She lies just unconscious.”
“Good gracious! Oh, you don’t think she will die?” and Mrs. Borden really turned pale with fright.
“A
