Chapter 21

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 I
took it for granted that we were going to see some poor old woman, I
put 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," I
thought, 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.