Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes, Jr. Horatio Alger [best ebook reader for surface pro txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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"She finds Godfrey very useful," the doctor thought.
"I will bear my anxiety as I can," she continued. "Have you thought of anyone for a nurse?"
"I have thought of Mrs. Burke."
"She is poor, and will come if you offer her a good price. Try to get her."
"I think she will come. I must go at once, for your husband needs immediate attention."
"Get her to come at once, Dr. Townley! Oh, do! My husband may want something, and I can't go into the room. My duty to my dear, only son will not permit me. I hope Mr. Preston understands my motives in going away?"
"I presume he does," said the doctor, rather equivocally.
"Tell him how great a sacrifice it is for me to leave his bedside. It is a terrible trial for me, but my duty to my son makes it imperative."
The doctor bowed.
He drove at once to the humble dwelling of Mrs. Burke.
His errand was briefly explained.
"Can you come?" he asked. "I am authorized to offer you ten dollars a week for the time you spend there."
"I would come in a minute, doctor, but what shall I do with Mary?"
"She shall stay at my house. I will gladly take charge of her."
"You are very kind, doctor. I wouldn't want to expose her, but I don't mind myself. I don't think I am in danger, for I've had the smallpoX — already."
"Can you be ready in five minutes? Tell Mary to pack up her things, and go to my house at once. We'll take good care of her."
In less than an hour Mrs. Burke was installed at the bedside of the sick man as his nurse. As she entered the house, Mrs. Preston left it, bound for the railway depot.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said, greeting the widow Burke with unwonted cordiality. "I am sure you will take the best care of my husband. I have told the doctor to pay you whatever you ask."
"I'll do my best, Mrs. Preston, but not for the money," answered Mrs. Burke. "Your husband shall get well, if good care can cure him."
"I've no doubt of it; but the carriage is here, and I must go. Tell my husband how sorry I am to leave him."
So Mrs. Preston went away, leaving a stranger to fulfill her own duties at the bedside of her husband.
Thus it happened that, when Andy came home, he found his mother already gone, and his sister on the point of starting for the doctor's house. His idea had already been carried out.
CHAPTER XXII — COLONEL PRESTON'S RECOVERY
Four weeks afterward, we will introduce the reader into the bedchamber of Colonel Preston. His sickness has been severe. At times recovery was doubtful, but Mrs. Burke has proved a careful and devoted nurse, intelligent and faithful enough to carry out the directions of the physician.
"How do you feel this morning, Colonel Preston?" asked the doctor, who had just entered the chamber.
"Better, doctor. I feel quite an appetite."
"You are looking better—decidedly better. The disease has spent its force, and retreated from the field."
"It is to you that the credit belongs, Dr. Townley."
"Only in part. The greater share belongs to your faithful nurse, Mrs. Burke."
"I shall not soon forget my obligations to her," said the sick man, significantly.
"Now, Colonel Preston," said Mrs. Burke, "you are making too much of what little I have done."
"That is impossible, Mrs. Burke. It is to your good nursing and the doctor's skill that I owe my life, and I hardly know to which the most."
"To the doctor, sir. I only followed out his directions."
"At the expense of your own health. You show the effects of your long-continued care."
"It won't take long to pick up," said Mrs. Burke, cheerfully.
"Is the danger of contagion over, doctor?" asked the patient.
"Quite so."
"Then, would it not be well to write to Mrs. Preston? Not that I mean to give up my good nurse just yet; that is, if she is willing to stay."
"I will stay as long as you need me, sir."
"That is well; but Mrs. Preston may wish to return, now that there's no further danger."
"I will write to her at once."
"Thank you."
The following letter was dispatched to Mrs. Preston:
"MRS. PRESTON:— "Dear Madam: It gives me great pleasure to inform you that your husband is so far recovered that there is no danger now of infection. You can return with safety, and he will, doubtless, be glad to see you. He has been very ill, indeed—in danger of his life; but, thanks to the devotion of Mrs. Burke, who has proved an admirable nurse, he is now on the high road to recovery. Yours respectfully, "John Townley.""I think that will bring her," said the doctor.
But he reckoned without his host.
The next day he received the following letter, on scented paper:
"MY DEAR DOCTOR TOWNLEY: You cannot think how rejoiced I am to receive the tidings of my husband's convalescence. I have been so tortured with anxiety during the last four weeks! You cannot think how wretchedly anxious I have been. I could not have endured to stay away from his bedside but that my duty imperatively required it. I have lost flesh, and my anxiety has worn upon me. Now, how gladly will I resume my place at the bedside of my husband, restored by your skill. I am glad the nurse has proved faithful. It was a good chance for her, for she shall be liberally paid, and no doubt the money will be welcome. But don't you think it might be more prudent for me to defer my return until next week? It will be safer, I think, and I owe it to my boy to be very careful. You know, the contagion may still exist. It is hard for me to remain longer away, when I would fain fly to the bedside of Mr. Preston, but I feel that it is best. Say to him, with my love, that he may expect me next week. Accept my thanks for your attention to him. I shall never forget it; and
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