When, after what seemed hours of waiting, Marty finally returned without the doctor or the promise of one, the little band fell again to wailing and weeping that their mother would surely die before their father would come home. The sick woman had not revived sufficiently to reassure them, and even Gloria, who insisted that she would be all right as soon as the doctor would arrive, now felt helpless indeed.
“But the girl will come,” panted Marty. “I got some one on the phone who said she’d be out right away.”
“Not then, but comin’,” insisted the boy hopefully. Again he was so like Tommy.
During all this time Gloria became more and more anxious about her Aunt Hattie. She had not dared ask Marty to phone her, lest his message frighten the nervous woman, but recalling how ill she had looked that morning she realized that perhaps she had not wanted her to go out, else why had she asked would she be away long? Gloria felt trapped and helpless in the emergency.
“Where’s the nearest phone?” she asked, anxiety now getting the better of her.
“There must be one somewhere. Isn’t there one in any of the big barns?” persisted Gloria.
“No,” scoffed little May, who, it seemed, must have often been called upon to relay messages, tiny tot that she was.
At this point the baby started to scream. It had really been neglected, and Ellen immediately began fixing its complicated food. The mother stirred and finally opened her eyes.
“Sh-s-s-s-h!” whispered Marty. He crept noiselessly over to the bed, put a brown hand on the white brow and looked so lovingly at the stricken woman that Gloria’s heart leapt. To have a mother, even a sick mother! What a blessing!
“Better, ma?” asked the boy close to the rumpled pillow.
“Yes—dearie,” replied the woman, in tones stronger than might have been expected. “She’s an angel.” This was meant for Gloria.
“Ye-ah, that’s it,” agreed Marty eagerly, while the other little ones gathered around beaming and exclaiming. Their mother was awake and she was better! What else was there to ask for? Their spirits rebounded electrically.
“Her nourishment?” pressed Gloria. “This is the time she must have that.”
The baby was dropped unceremoniously into May’s lap, but having the “bottle” made up for that discomfit. Ellen and Gloria heated the small saucepan of broth (left by Mrs. Berg the day previous) and without delaying longer than the time necessary to put the broth on a saucer and to put the saucer and spoon on a new pie pan, used as a tray, the two emergency nurses timidly began their feeding.