Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 199, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 August 1915 — WRONG NUMBER 33 [ARTICLE]

WRONG NUMBER 33

A Messenger’s Mistake Made a Lasting Change in the Life of Nurse Ewing.

By LESLIE COOMBS.

(Copyright, 1916, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Nurse Sylvia Ewing was resting. She Bat in her room as Mrs. Bill’s boarding house, sorting over the basket of freshly laundered uniforms, aprons and caps. She was packing a suitcase ready for any emergency call and she had just completed her task and shut away the extra garments in her bureau drawers when there came a tap at the door. “Come In," said Sylvia. It was Martha, the maid. “Please, Miss Ewing, there’s a man downstairs says he’s come for you to go out to Windberry—a lady has been taken suddenly. He’s got a car down at the door.” She handed Sylvia a card and went away. Sylvia glanced at It. It bore the name of Richard Waring and scribbled underneath In pencil were a few words: “My mother has been suddenly stricken. Can you come at once? Adolph will bring you in the car.” Sylvia did not know Richard Waring—she had never heard of him, but she supposed it was one of Doctor Dorman’s cases. She was surprised that the call had not come through the customary channel, the doctor’s office. But there was no time for speculation. A handsome limousine praited at the curb, and Sylvia donned her white uniform, slipped on a topcoat, snatched up her suitcase and, with a hurried word to Mrs. Bill, went out and was assisted Into the car by a trim looking chauffeur. In another moment they were spinning along the fine road toward Windberry, a charming suburb. She was not prepared for the Imposing house —a long, rambling pile of stone broken Into many gables and with a score of red tiled chimneys. The footman was waiting in the lower hall. He opened a door and apnounced—“Miss Young!” A man came forward to meet her. There was blank surprise in his keen, clear face, but he quickly masked it and held out his hand. "I am very glad to see you, Miss — er—Young?” "Ewing,” corrected Sylvia. “I received your card, Mr. Waring.” She gave him the card Adolph had presented and he thrust it into his pocket. - “I suppose it Is one of Doctor Dorman’s cases?” “Ah —no; Doctor Laidlaw Is our physician. Will you come to my mother’s room now, Miss Ewing?” Mrs. Waring had suffered a slight stroke of paralysis; her speech was not affected, but one arm and hand were numb and helpless. She opened her eyes when Sylvia came to her bedside; and her eyes widened and the same look of surprise that the nurse had noted in the son’s gaze was here. “This is Miss Ewing, mother,” said Waring. “She has come to take care of you. The doctor has just telephoned that he is on the way to pay you another visit.” He stooped over and kissed the pale, lined face on the pillow and tiptoed out of the room. The maid who had been sitting with her mistress gave the nurse the paper with the doctor’s directions and left Sylvia alone with her patient. Mrs. Waring’s dark eyes followed the graceful movements of the new nurse. One could read disappointment in her cold glance, and some bewilderment. At last she spoke: “Why did you come?” Sylvia turned a surprised face to her. “Because I was sent sor —to take care of you,” she added, with her best smile. “You won’t do,” said the patient coldly. "I’m sorry you don’t like me,” faltered Sylvia, taken aback. “I like you well enough—but you’re too pretty!” Sylvia’s hands flew up to her hot cheeks. Her eyes flashed and then she remembered that perhaps her patient was not entirely responsible for her utterances.

So she made no answer, but went about her duties, and when Doctor Laidlaw arrived he found the sick woman reposing comfortably. Sylvia had met him once or twice in the course of her hospital practice and she knew him for a very able physician. He greeted her pleasantly and she thought she detected a gleam of amusement in his twinkling glance. Sylvia followed him to the door as he was going. She was perplexed. She related what the sick woman had said to her, blushing as she repeated the doubtful compliment. "It will disturb her to have me here,” she added. “I hardly think so —we’ll try it out, anyway,”’ he said cheerfully as he went downstairs. As the days passed by Mrs. Waring lost her first animosity toward her nurse. But her eyes continued to follow Sylvia around the room. “Why does she care whether I am pretty or not?” the girl asked herself, impatiently, "as long as 1 do my duty?” It was Waring himself who enlightened Sylvia. One April morning Mrs. Waring, sitting in a chair by the sunny Window, watched the girl as she noiselessly put the room to rights.

“Where to Miss Yoon*?” asked Mrs. Waring abruptly. “Miss Young? I am afraid I don't know whom you mean.” “Miss Young is the nurse who has always attended me.” “Pei haps she was engaged on another case.” “No —my son sent for you. Miss Ewing?" "Yes, he sent Adolph With.the car." "Did you ever meet my son before, Miss Ewing?” Sylvia's look of surprise was genuine. i “Why, no, Mrs. Waring. Why do you ask such a question?” Mrs. Waring frowned. "Because you are so pretty,” she said, and remained silent. Sylvia’s thoughts were chaotic. Her position was growing disagreeable, and she determined to speak to Richard Waring about it. The son of the house spent his days in town and his evenings, when his mother was unable to see him, were spent among his books in the library. It was here that Sylvia found him that same evening. May I have a word with you, Mr. Waring?” she asked timidly, for she was rather afraid of the handsome, reserved man. “With pleasure, Miss Ewing,” he returned cordially. He placed a deep chair for her in front of the fire and stood leaning with one elbow on the mantelpiece. “I’m so gratified that mother has made such progress under your care. Laidlaw thinks she may regain the use of her hand and arm.” “I am glad,” said Sylvia, with a smiling flash of gray eyes. “But I’m afraid, Mr. Waring, that your mother is not quite happy with me.” A faint color flickered in her cheeks. “Not happy with you?” he exclaimed. “That is absurd.” “She asks me why I came and she inquires for a ‘Miss Young’ who has always nursed her. May I ask, Mr. Waring, why you did not send for this Miss Young?” Waring regarded her thoughtfully. Then a rueful smile overspread his face. “To tellVfri the truth, Miss Ewing, I did send for her!” “Why didn’t she respond to your ’call?” “I’ll be hanged if I know! There, it’s out, and perhaps you’ll help me clear up the mystery. I sent Adolph after Miss Young and he came back with you! I supposed she had sent you as a substitute. I spoke to Doctor Laidlaw and he complimented your work, but he also said that Miss Young was idle. Then I put Adolph through the third degree —he declares that he went to 33 Cypress street —” “Number 33 Cyclamen -street!” interrupted Sylvia. ,i “Cyclamen street? Then he made a mistake in the street and the similarity of the names —Ewing and Young—added to his confusion. Our telephone was out of order that day, and I did not call her by that means. lam sure it was a happy mistake for us.” He bowed courteously. “I am afraid your mother does not think so,” said Sylvia. “Under the circumstances I feel that I ought to yield my place to Miss Young. It is really her case.” “Please do not make any change; mother is whimsical and —I wonder if I may tell you the real reason why she prefers Miss Young?” Sylvia caught her breath. She wished he would not look at her in ttiht peculiar manner. It made her heart flutter uncomfortably. “Pray be frank with me, Mr. Waring,” sUe managed to say. With the long, curling lashes against the pink of her cheeks, the becoming white of her uniform, with its dainty cap perched in her red brown hair, Sylvia was indeed charming.

"My mother is a woman of prejudices,” he began, “and when her brother, in his late middle age, succumbed to the charms of a really noble woman of your profession, my mother became very angry, and from that date she denounced all trained nurses as —you will pardon me, I am sure —sirens! She believed them to be designing, and with a grown son to protect from theis wiles she uttered a decree that If sickness required a trained nurse in her house it must be one of such homely appearance that I would b e e quite out of danger!” He laughed ruefully, and Sylvia was forced to join in. “So mother made a business of searching for a thoroughly reliable nurse, whom she might call in when sickness should overtake our family, and she finally discovered* poor Miss Young, who is plain and middle aged and devoted to the memory of a longdeceased lover. She is a faithful soul and we are fond of her. So you see your coming here 'Was to my mother a menace!” “How absurd!” cried Sylvia. “But now I am convinced that my presence here could only worry her, and you must promise me you will send for Miss Young at once.” Sylvia flashed through the door and vanished up the stairs. * An hour later Miss Young appeared, tall, raw-boned, strong-visaged, a woman of kindly heart and skilled in her profession. Sylvia bade goqd-by to Mrs. Waring with some relief. To her surprise the invalid pulled her face down close to her pillow. “You are going. Miss Ewing,” she whispered, “but I feel sure that you will come back some day. I’ve watched you a long time and Richard has confessed to me, and if fate has ordained that he is to marry r trained nurse I’d rather it were you th»n anyone else in the world!”