Chapter II: Part 2

Dr. Barsch dressed the wound and pulled the curtain aside. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I’m ... I’m a little scared,” Gene admitted.

Dr. Barsch laughed. “We just played a dirty trick on you, son. Your operation’s all over.”

Sally gave the patient an injection, and he relaxed again.

“You’re going to sleep for a while now. And when you wake up, you’ll be back in your room with a sore tummy.”

Gene relaxed and slipped off to sleep as Sally and Helen wheeled him down the corridor.

Dr. Barsch slipped off his gloves and glanced at the broken appendix. He shook his head. “Get that to the lab right away,” he said. “Miss Hancock can take it down when she gets back. Miss Craig, you come on down to my office with me. I want to take a look at that sketch.”

When they reached Dr. Barsch’s office, Jean laid her sketch pad on the desk for Dr. Barsch to see. He picked it up and nodded.

“Sit down, Miss Craig. Dr. Loring will be down in a minute. I want him to have a look at this, too. Then we’ll get some coffee. I could use some.”

Jean smiled. “I’ll go down to the kitchen and get some while we’re waiting,” she offered. “You must be tired.”

Dr. Barsch waved his hand. “Sit down. The coffee can wait.” He tapped the sketch with his forefinger and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. Then he searched among the papers on his desk for a letter. Finding it, he nodded his head as he read it over.

“I think maybe we’ve found a way to put your talents to practical use, Miss Craig,” he said slowly.

Jean jumped up. “Really?” she cried. “But how? I mean, I’m so far from ready to do anything useful with my art. Surgical art is such a specialized and highly skilled profession!”

The doctor nodded gravely. “Yes, it most certainly is,” he said thoughtfully. “And of course the sketch you did for us just now is still rather amateurish. But I was right about you, I think. It shows a great deal of promise.”

Jean grinned with pleasure. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said.

Dr. Barsch picked up the letter again. “I’ve been in touch with a medical publisher about you. You see, whenever they hear of a promising young artist who knows something about medicine, they leap at the chance to sign him--or her--up. It doesn’t happen often. Not often enough, that an artist is also interested in medicine.”

Jean clasped her hands together. “You mean, some publisher wants me to do drawings for him?”

Dr. Barsch laughed. “Not so fast, young lady. No, their offer isn’t quite that spectacular.” He rubbed his hands together. “But in a sense, I suppose maybe the offer is in its way more spectacular. You see, they want you to take more art courses.”

“But ...” Jean began.

The doctor held up his hand. “Wait till I finish,” he said. “I think it can all be figured out quite simply. You will finish your nurse’s training this summer. And then, as I understand it, you are thinking about being married.”

Jean hesitated. “Of course no definite date has been set yet.”

Dr. Barsch stroked his chin. “Well, let’s assume that the wedding will take place soon after your graduation. When you reach Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, you can begin a correspondence course in art, can’t you?”

Jean grinned. “I had sort of planned to continue studying art after Ralph and I were married.” She looked down. “You see, I don’t want to forget my skills just because I’m being married.”

The doctor grinned. “Fine! Fine!” he said. “Then my little plan _can_ be worked. This publishing company is prepared to award you a sort of scholarship so that you can take the course. In return, you will have to make arrangements with a hospital near your home in Saskatchewan to attend their operations and do sketching for the company when you have completed the course.”

Jean thought a moment. “There is a small hospital near Ralph’s ranch,” she said. “Ralph has told me about it. Certainly I could make arrangements with them to sketch at their operations.”

Dr. Barsch nodded. “Of course I’ll help you arrange things. I think maybe if they realize you’re a student of mine, there won’t be much trouble with the details.”

“Someone open the door,” Ted called from outside. “I’ve got coffee for everyone.”

Jean went over to the door. Ted brought in the tray and set it on the desk.

“You should have let me get it,” Jean cried.

Ted smiled. “Division of labor, my child. Dr. Barsch operates, you sketch and I just stand around. So I’m elected coffee boy.”

“Take a look at Miss Craig’s sketch, Loring,” Dr. Barsch said, handing him the pad. “I think it’s pretty fair.”

“That’s high praise, coming from you,” Ted laughed. He looked at it carefully. “Uh huh,” he said, nodding. “It looks swell. Jeannie, you could make a career out of doing this.”

Jean laughed. “Dr. Barsch and I have just been discussing that.”

“But of course you’re off to the altar, and there’s the end of a beautiful career,” Ted said dolefully.

“Oh, no!” Jean cried.

Dr. Barsch smiled slyly. “Sounds to me as if _you_ are against marriage, Dr. Loring. I suppose Miss Simpson realizes this?”

Ted blushed. “Oh, marriage is all right,” he protested.

Dr. Barsch lit his pipe. “Marriage is all right. Hm,” he said playfully. “I’ve a notion to tell Miss Simpson how enthusiastic you are about the institution of wedlock. You and your city ways! Moon and pussyfoot around and steal the best doggoned Supervisor of Nurses I ever had! All right, indeed!”

Ted shifted painfully. “Oh, I’m very much in favor of marriage, doctor....”

“That’s good to hear,” Dr. Barsch said.

“It’s just that Jean draws so well....”

“And Miss Simpson makes such a good Supervisor,” Dr. Barsch added.

Ted squirmed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You can’t have her back!” He looked at Jean’s and Dr. Barsch’s faces. They were grinning.

“Dr. Barsch, you shouldn’t tease him so,” Jean said lightly. “Isn’t it all right to tell him about the plan?”

Dr. Barsch puffed at his pipe. “Of course, my dear.”

Breathlessly, Jean repeated Dr. Barsch’s plans for her to Ted. The young doctor nodded and clapped his hands together in agreement.

“Marvelous idea, Jeannie,” he said. “I think Ralph will like the idea, too.”

5. April Wedding

Ethel’s and Ted’s wedding was scheduled for April eighteenth. The first two weeks of the month were dreary and rainy. The skies above Elmhurst were constantly gray, and the countryside looked bleak and unpromising after the long winter. Tempers were short at the clinic. The season of spring colds was on, and Jean felt a great depression as she tended her duties as an upperclass nurse. Because of the shortage of graduate nurses at the hospital, Jean and her classmates were used almost as regular nurses. Jean had to attend courses in chemistry, biology and dietetics along with her regular duties, and as the spring term got under way, she was now in charge of the pediatric ward.

A whole procession of youngsters flooded both the doctors’ offices and the hospital wards. And Jean’s days were full of bathing youngsters, trying to put dosages of penicillin and sulpha into unwilling small mouths, taking temperatures and pulses of the squirming children. She tried to study at night after writing her daily letter to Ralph, but often she would steal back into the ward to hold the hand of a tiny, miserable patient lonely for his mother. Jean found solace in the quiet ward at night. The children were calmer, there were no adults about, and she couldn’t see the dreadful, gloomy sky.

Ordinarily, Jean would have welcomed the chance to work so closely with Ted, whose capacity as pediatrician kept him closely in touch with the ward. But Ted was cross and nervous. For hours at a time, he swabbed throats and sprayed sniffly noses and tried to reason with mothers weary of the winter and of housefuls of pent-up children.

The radio forecasts were always the same: showers.

“April showers,” Jean remarked one day bitterly as she gazed up at the sky which was sending down its interminable drizzly rain. “If these are showers, let me know when one stops and the next one starts, someone!”

Only Ethel and Jack seemed to retain their high spirits. Ethel was too excited about her wedding even to notice the weather. And Jack, bedridden already a month, had drawn from some inner source a courage and even temper which amazed everyone around him. Although Jack knew that he would be in bed for many months, he never seemed to be depressed. He made a full life for himself within his tiny room. Although he wasn’t allowed many visitors, he soon fell into a routine which occupied his mind, but which didn’t excite him too much.

But just when everyone decided that it would never stop raining, the sun came out. The sky was blue with fluffy white clouds, and spring had come to Elmhurst. Trees which had been barren two weeks before were now covered with soft green buds. The whole countryside softened with new-growing greenery. The river ran with vigorous energy to carry its extra burden to the ocean, and the air smelled clean, as if the heavens had spent two energetic weeks in spring housecleaning.

The day of Ethel’s wedding was cool and clear. The ceremony was to be held in the Craigs’ parlor, and the whole family was busy making final preparations.

Doris was singing “Brightly Dawns Our Wedding Day” from the _Mikado_ as she dusted the living room furniture for the third time. Jean arranged the wedding presents on the dining room table for everyone to see. She sighed gently as she laid out the sterling silver which Mrs. Loring had given her son and daughter-to-be. And she smiled in satisfied anticipation as she arranged the kitchen equipment which had been the contribution of the nurses at the shower. She handled the linens and china with loving care.

Mrs. Craig ran downstairs and popped her head into the dining room.

“Time to get dressed, dear. I want you to be ready so you can help me with the bride. Oh, dear,” she sighed, “where _is_ that girl?”

“Ethel?” Jean asked. “I suppose she’s still at the hospital. If I know Ethel, she’s probably making a long list of instructions to leave behind her.” She sighed. “Oh, Mother,” she cried, “all these lovely things! And you should see that terrible little apartment they’re going to have to put them in! Darn it, anyhow! Why couldn’t Ted have been a veteran? Then he could have one of the houses Dad designed for the veterans’ project. Now, where on earth will they put all these things in that stuffy little place?”

Mrs. Craig smiled knowingly. “Never mind, dear. Ethel can store things here if she wants to, till she has a better place. Now hurry, Jean. With everyone dressing here, we have to hustle.”

Jean obediently went upstairs. Mrs. Craig went in to send Doris up to dress, muttering, “Ethel should have come to breakfast as I told her to. She probably didn’t eat a thing.”

As she spoke, Ethel came in the front door. Mrs. Craig stretched out both hands to her, and Ethel grabbed them. She attempted to smile.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it for breakfast, Mrs. Craig,” she said. “But there were just a few things I wanted to take care of at the hospital before I left.”

Jean bent over the upstairs railing and called down, “What did I tell you, Mother?”

Mrs. Craig smiled in despair. “Oh, child, this is your wedding day! Now, let’s get you upstairs and into your finery.”

Suddenly Ethel burst into tears. Mrs. Craig put her arms around her and drew her over to a chair.

“I ... I don’t _want_ to get married,” Ethel cried. “I ... well, I just don’t want to get married!”

Mrs. Craig smiled knowingly and patted the girl on the shoulder. “I know, my dear. I know just how you feel....”

“They’re so short-handed over at the hospital. They can’t spare any nurses,” Ethel sobbed. “I just can’t get married now! There are too many things to do!”

Suddenly her eyes brightened. “Do you think Ted would understand if we called the wedding off? I mean, just till I finish everything that has to be done at the hospital?”

Mr. Craig came into the front hall together with Aunt Becky. He stopped at the sight of Ethel’s tearful face and stared at her in alarm.

“Great heavens!” he exclaimed. “Tears on your wedding day?”

Becky elbowed him out of the way and came over to Ethel. “Oh, run along with you, man,” she snapped at the bewildered Mr. Craig. “There isn’t a girl alive who doesn’t get plumb nervous at the thought of her wedding day!” She turned to Ethel. “Now, now, child,” she said, “you just have a good cry, and....”

Mr. Craig interrupted Becky with a loud laugh. He threw back his head and roared. “If you think you’re nervous, my girl,” he said, “you should see Ted, now. When I stopped in to see him, his poor mother was trying to help him dress. Ted was hopping around on one foot like a scared chicken....”

Mrs. Craig touched her husband’s arm. “All right, dear,” she said, “now run along and get _yourself_ dressed.”

As Mr. Craig went upstairs, whistling, Ethel composed herself and smiled at the two women.

“Poor Ted,” she grinned. “He’s _so_ helpless. And of course he’s scared! He needs someone to look after him.” She glanced at her watch. “Good heavens!” she cried, “I’d better hurry and dress! Mrs. Craig, where is my gown?”

Mrs. Craig smiled. “Your clothes are up in Jean’s room, dear. Doris and Jean are waiting to help you. I’ll be up, myself, in a few minutes.”

Ethel threw her arms around Mrs. Craig’s neck and hugged her. “How can Ted and I ever thank you for what you are doing for us?”

“Humph!” Becky snorted. “Now, scat, girl. And Marge, you come out with me to the kitchen. I want to unload my basket.” She shook the overflowing basket of last-minute additions to the party food which she was carrying.

Ethel nearly collided with Tommy on the stairway.

“Hi, beautiful,” Tommy said, grinning. “I hereby swear my eternal devotion to you on your wedding day.”

Ethel laughed. “You idiot! Whatever do you mean?”

Tommy shook his head. “Only for you. For you only, I say, would I struggle into this!” And he waved a stiff collar under her nose. “That is, outside of the immediate family.”

As Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs, still muttering about his collar, the front door flew open, and Ted, followed by a distraught Mrs. Loring, came dashing into the hall. Ted confronted Tommy, his face twisted in wrath.

“Tommy, where’s your father?” he demanded.

Tommy stared at the bridegroom.

“Now, now, dear,” Ted’s mother clutched at his arm, “don’t upset everyone, now. Calm yourself!”

Ted turned to face his mother. “But you _know_ this means the wedding’s off! How can a man get married when...?”

“Huh?” said Tommy.

“The apartment! The furniture! Gone! Everything’s gone! I’ve been robbed! The apartment wasn’t much, but it was a place to live, and Ethel and I picked out all our furniture and had it sent to that place. Now it’s gone!”

Mrs. Loring took Ted’s hand. “Now listen, son,” she said, “there must be an explanation. People don’t run off with a houseful of furniture.”

Mr. Craig came downstairs.

“Well, hello, Mrs. Loring,” he said, shaking her hand. “And Ted. I’m afraid I have to do the honors. The women are all upstairs dressing.”

Mrs. Loring smiled wryly. “Mr. Craig, forgive this ridiculous son of mine. We would have come over at the proper time when everything was ready. But Ted has some fool notion that he’s been robbed.”

Mr. Craig chuckled. “If Ted didn’t come crashing into a party, I would know there was something wrong. Did he ever tell you about the first time we met?”

Mrs. Loring smiled as if she knew her son’s habits. “I can imagine the entrance he made was spectacular,” she said.

Mr. Craig laughed at the memory. “It certainly was. We gave a large barn dance to celebrate the building of the clinic. Dr. Gallup was in the midst of introducing Dr. Barsch to the community when, bang! The lights all went out. Seems as if Ted had come in and tripped over the light cords.”

Mrs. Loring laughed despairingly. “Oh, Ted,” she sighed. “I’m afraid you had a typical introduction to my son,” she said to Mr. Craig.

“Mother!” Ted cried, “how can you stand around swapping tales with Mr. Craig when I’ve been robbed?”

Mr. Craig looked at Ted gravely. “Suppose you start from the beginning and tell me the whole story.”

“Well, sir, I went over to see the apartment this morning to check on last minute details, you know. The landlady told me that she didn’t _have_ an apartment for me! I told her that was ridiculous and that I’d already paid my first month’s rent and that I had a whole apartment full of furniture moved in not two days ago. She showed me the apartment and there wasn’t a stick of it ... there wasn’t anything in it! Then she handed me back my money!” Ted’s face became redder.

Mr. Craig began to chuckle. “How much rent did she want for those three rooms?”

Ted glowered. “Sixty-five a month.”

“Sixty-five a month is a little high for children just setting up housekeeping. I tell you what, Ted. There’s no point in upsetting your wedding by keeping it from you any longer. You see, for forty-five a month, you can have a regular house.”

Ted stared at Mr. Craig. “I don’t understand, sir,” he said.

Mr. Craig smiled. “Mrs. Craig and I went over to see your apartment a week or so ago. Frankly, Mrs. Craig didn’t think much of it. So we decided to move you out. It just happens I have a house for rent. In the housing project that I designed. It’s been open for four days, only, and they’re pretty nice little houses. The builders gave me one as a sort of bonus, and I want to rent it, of course. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me....”

Ted gasped. “This ... this is a miracle. But it’s too much! We couldn’t possibly accept it!”

Mr. Craig shook his head. “Mrs. Craig and I are very anxious to see you two settled nicely. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for Ethel.” He handed Ted a set of keys. “Here you are, son. You’ll find your furniture at this address.”

Mrs. Loring sat down. “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Craig,” she murmured.

Ted sat down and stared at the keys in his hand. Mr. Craig patted him on the shoulder and turned to his son. “Hey, Tommy,” he called. “Come here, and I’ll fix your collar.”

Only the members of the Craig family even suspected that Ethel had shed tears less than an hour before the ceremony. When she came down the stairs on Dr. Barsch’s arm, she was the perfect picture of a radiant bride. The wedding was held in the front parlor with the family and hospital staff in attendance. It was a regular old-fashioned wedding, and the fragrance of roses and lilacs filled the parlor as the minister read the time-revered words. And from the silent congregation came the sound of muffled sobs--not from the happy Mrs. Craig, who beamed on the beautiful bride, nor from Mrs. Loring, who smiled at her new daughter with contented pride, but from Jean, who suddenly felt the tragic loneliness of a girl whose beloved is many, many miles away.

6. Dr. Benson Confesses

Ethel and Ted had gone on a short tour of New England for their honeymoon. The routine of the hospital resumed, and Eileen Gordon became official Supervisor of Nurses. Jean was amused at the comparison of the two girls. For Eileen had taken over Ethel’s classes, and Jean and the other girls soon realized that Eileen was every bit as devoted to her profession as Ethel had been. Eileen was a bit different from Ethel in that she was new at handling girls. But there was no question about the fact that she knew her business. And she was friendly and helpful, so the students became used to her brusque manner in class and on the floor.

Jean, Sally, Hedda, Lucy Peckham and Ingeborg were all in dietetics class when Eileen took over the class for the first time. The new Supervisor was plainly nervous, and the students smiled encouragingly at her as she opened the notebook which Ethel had left for her.

Eileen toyed with a pencil as she scanned Ethel’s notes. “You all know, or should know, by this time,” she said, “the importance of a balanced diet.” She smiled at the class. “I’m rather hoping that one of you will plan to specialize in dietetics, because we will be needing a good one for our own kitchen. But we all have to know about diet ... in fact, every human being should know about it.” She stopped, realizing that she was being too repetitious and long-winded.

“Let’s start with the three major groups of foods. Miss Peckham, will you please name them?”

Lucy smiled and said, “The three major classifications of foods are fats, carbohydrates and proteins.”

Eileen nodded. “And who can tell me what a calory is?”

The class groaned in mock despair. Counting calories was an unpleasant job which some of them occasionally had to do.

“Something we could do without,” Sally said flippantly.

Eileen laughed with the rest of the class. “As a woman, I agree with you, Miss Hancock,” she said. “But as a nurse, I have to send you to the foot of the class.” She looked about the classroom. “Miss Craig, will you tell Miss Hancock what a calory is and why she couldn’t possibly get along without it?”

Jean laughed. “A calory is a unit of heat ... or, in the case of food which provides fuel, weight. And Sally would have to have calories or give up eating altogether.”

Eileen nodded as the rest of the class tittered. “Can anyone name foods which do not have calories?”

The class thought. Lucy raised her hand. “Coffee doesn’t have any calories,” she said.

Eileen frowned a little and nodded. “Strictly speaking, I think you can’t exactly call coffee a food. It’s actually a drug ... or, at least, its main function is that of a drug.”

“How about salt?” Hedda asked.

“That’s right,” Eileen said. “But of course no pure minerals have calories. The function of the mineral is not to provide body heat.” She flipped a page. “Now let’s talk about diets and people. Can someone name three special categories of people needing different diets?”

Jean held up her hand. “Adults, children and expectant mothers.”

Eileen nodded. “Very good. Any more?”

Sally raised her hand. “Sick people have to have lots of different diets, depending on what’s the matter with them. And an office worker needs different food from the food needed by a laborer.”

Eileen hesitated. “You’re right about the first category, but don’t forget that all people need the same basic foods, no matter what they do.”

“All except Dr. Benson,” Lucy muttered under her breath. “He eats people. He’s a wolf!”

Eileen caught part of Lucy’s remark and blushed fiery red. She hesitated a moment and then decided to pass on to something else. For the rest of the hour, the class discussed the essentials of a balanced diet. And when Eileen dismissed them, the class adjourned for a few minutes in the lounge before they returned to duty.

They all helped themselves to cokes from the machine in the lounge and relaxed. Sally giggled as she opened her coke bottle. “That was a lovely remark you made in class, Lucy,” she said. “Eileen heard you, too.”

Lucy made a face. “I don’t care. She feels the same way we all do.”

Jean looked questioningly at Lucy. “I didn’t know you knew Dr. Benson that well.”

Sally giggled. “Haven’t you heard? Lucy had a date with the man himself last night.”

“Really?” Jean asked.

Sally nodded. “Lucy and I made a bargain that the first one he would ask yesterday to go out would date him. Just to see if his bark was as bad as his bite. So he asked Lucy, and Lucy is forthwith ready to make her report to the clan.”

Lucy took a drink of her coke. “It wasn’t bad at all,” she confessed. “In fact, I would have been quite flattered by all the lovely words. That is, I would have been if my name had been Jean.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Lucy?” Jean asked.

“Such a crush on you our Dr. Benson has! He talked on and on about you till I almost got insulted.”

The door opened and Eileen came in. “Okay if I join you?” she asked.

“Come on in,” Sally answered. “We’re having a time roasting Dr. Benson. Lucy went out with him last night.”

“So that’s what was behind the remark you made in class,” Eileen said. “Well, how was it?”

“We went to a movie,” Lucy continued. “Then the dear doctor started to make a play for poor little me....”

“Oh, goodness, Lucy!” Eileen interrupted. “You aren’t actually _telling_ them all about your date!”

“She went out with him on a sort of a dare,” Sally explained.

Eileen shook her head. “Even so,” she said, “it doesn’t seem right to talk about it. It’s sort of unkind, don’t you think?”

Sally grinned. “He has it coming. You know perfectly well he’s been chasing everyone in sight ever since he got here. The perfect redhead, disposition and all.”

Jean shook her head. “I think Eileen’s right,” she said.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Sally cried. “Now all at once Dr. Benson is perfectly okay, and we aren’t to betray his confidences.”

Eileen smiled. “He’s stupid in lots of ways. But he is a good doctor, and he’s awfully young, after all. Maybe he’s never been away from home before.”

Sally shrugged. “Well, if you feel so tenderly towards him, why don’t you go out with him, yourself?”

Eileen chuckled. “Never! He’s not my type, in the first place.”

Jean laughed and put down her coke bottle. “I’m on duty, so I’d better get back to work. I’m glad you had such a lovely time, Lucy.” She stretched and yawned. “Well, so long, gang,” she said.

She hurried down the hall of the second floor to look at the call sheet. Each day after lunch, the students were assigned to special duties for the day, and Jean wanted to check on her assignment. She frowned as she saw her name opposite that of Dr. Benson. Then she grinned sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. As long as he was on duty, Dr. Benson would be professional and mannerly. Jean determined that she would be as pleasant as she could be to the young man.

Dr. Benson was making routine checks in the contagious ward when Jean found him. He seemed very grave as he examined his patients. Jean noted with satisfaction that he made very thorough checks on each one. He didn’t even seem to notice Jean as he worked. Quietly and efficiently she followed him from patient to patient, making notes on each chart.

“Well, that’s that,” Dr. Benson finally said as he finished examining his last patient. “Thanks, gorgeous.”

Jean smiled in spite of herself. “Anything else, Doctor?” she asked.

Dr. Benson ran his fingers through his red hair. “I guess not. Not now, anyway. But tell me something, beautiful? How did I make out with Lucy last night?”

Jean blushed and looked up at him questioningly. “I don’t have any idea,” she asked. “Why?”

Dr. Benson grinned wryly. Jean noticed that he had a dimple near his mouth. “That’s not a straight answer, and you know it, Miss Craig,” he said. “I know I was up for discussion today. Well, did you all approve of my technique?”

Jean instantly felt a warm surge of feeling for the doctor. He was actually pathetic. He sensed her reaction and waved his hand as if to brush it off.

“Forget it,” he said brusquely. “My ears are still burning from a dressing down I got this morning from Dr. Barsch. I’m still shaky on making out reports. Well, we all have to learn....” His voice trailed off, and he grinned. “What’s new with the boy friend, cutie?” he asked.

“Ralph’s fine,” Jean answered. “He’ll be back next week.”

“I wonder if he knows what a lucky guy he is,” Dr. Benson said. “To have a girl waiting for him ... you know, having someone he cares for thinking so much of him. Oh well, skip it. This is just a bad day.”

“I know how to make out reports,” Jean said. “Let me help you with yours.”

Dr. Benson stared at her. “You want to help me after the way I’ve acted towards you? The other nurses treat me as if I were poison!”

Dr. Barsch came down the hall. He smiled affectionately at Jean and nodded to Dr. Benson.

“I’m sorry if I was a bit rough this morning, Doctor,” he said gravely. “Sometimes I forget how complicated these reports can be till one becomes used to them.”

Dr. Benson actually blushed. “It was my fault, sir,” he admitted, “and I had it coming. Miss Craig has promised to help me with my next batch.”

“Good. Good,” Dr. Barsch said. “Our great trouble around here is that we’re too busy to teach routine. Well, a bright boy like you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Benson said. “I’ll try to live up to my notices.”

“I’m sure you will, son,” Dr. Barsch said, clapping his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Then he smiled and walked off.

Dr. Benson pounded his fist into his hand. “That’s right,” he muttered. “Makes me feel like a heel!”

“Oh, no!” Jean cried, “he didn’t mean to! Dr. Barsch is a very considerate man!”

Dr. Benson shrugged and turned away. “I can’t figure out this deal at all. People just aren’t as considerate as everyone here seems to be. I know. I’ve been around.”

“You sound so tough,” Jean giggled.

“Well, I found out a long time ago there’s only one thing that really is interested in you ... as long as you have it. And that’s the dollar. People? Huh, they’re interested in you when you’ve got it. And I’m going to get it!”

Jean nodded and said, “And that’s why you’re living on sixty dollars a month as an intern now.”

“It’ll pay off,” the young doctor said.

Jean grinned in spite of herself. “A man with your intelligence could make a fortune quickly in business ... real estate, for example. But of course you chose medicine, and now you’re going to tell me you have to pay back your parents’ financial investment by going through with it.”

Dr. Benson set his jaw. “My parents! That’s a laugh. I’ll tell you a secret, Miss Craig. My fairy godmother sent me through school.”

Jean looked at him in amazement. “I don’t understand,” she said.

Dr. Benson smiled bitterly. “I think you do. You all do. I’m not good enough for you and your friends to date. I am the bright young boy from the other side of the tracks, didn’t you know? I’m the guy who sent himself through school. Why, I was out on the streets of New York peddling papers, shining shoes ... doing anything I could to support my parents, when I was just a kid.”

Jean gasped. “Really, none of us knew. We didn’t have any idea...!” she cried. “You were just so ... so fresh!”

Dr. Benson sighed. “Okay,” he said. “Skip it.”

“It really was awful of you to take Lucy out and talk all evening about me,” Jean said softly.

“I suppose I should have talked about what I really was interested in. Then you all could have had a real laugh!”

Jean frowned. “Now listen, Dr. Benson,” she said coldly, “I think you’ve got things completely mixed up. If you weren’t so busy feeling sorry for yourself, you might have noticed what we really are like here.”

The doctor set his jaw and mimicked her voice as he said, “All right, what are we all like here?”

Jean resisted the impulse to walk away from him and said, “I suppose you realize that you’re not the only one who’s had trouble in the past. Miss Simpson ... I mean, Mrs. Loring ... was raised in an orphanage, you know. And her husband, Ted, is probably one of the most popular men in the community today. He put himself through school. Only he never thought it was any disgrace to make his own way.”

“And you? What about you and your fine family? You wouldn’t give me a tumble,” Dr. Benson said.

“If it were any of your business, I could tell you how we managed to stay together without any money after the war. And of course I won’t date you when I’m engaged to someone else. Now forget this nonsense. We’d all like you if you’d give us the chance.”

Dr. Benson grinned sheepishly. “I really blew off,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

Jean smiled. “I’m glad you did. At least I know now why you seemed to be so ... so....”

“So terrible. Okay, beautiful. Let’s get back to work. And listen, what I’ve said is just between you and me. It’s no one else’s business.”

Jean grinned despairingly. Just when Dr. Benson seemed to let his guard drop, he picked it up again. But now, at least, she felt confident that he would discover how to make friends at the clinic.

7. Ralph Returns from Europe

Ralph flew back from Europe the first week in May. His plane landed at Boston, and he caught the first train for Elmhurst. The day after he left Bergen, Norway, he appeared at the Craigs’ front door.

Jean was waiting for him on the front porch when his taxi pulled up before the house. She tore down the steps as he opened the car door, and he jumped out and caught her in his arms. For several minutes neither said a word.

“Oh, Jeannie,” Ralph muttered, holding her close to him. “Jeannie, my darling!”

Jean burrowed her face against his coat and murmured. “Ralph, it’s been _so_ long!”

He held her away from him. “Let me look at you,” he said tenderly. “Gee, if anything, you’re more beautiful than ever!”

She crept close to him again. “Don’t let me go,” she pleaded lightly. “I’m going to stay right here for the rest of my life!”

He stroked her dark curls. “You won’t find me difficult to deal with on _that_ score,” he laughed. Then he became serious. “I’m not going away from you ever again, Jeannie. It isn’t worth it. Everywhere I went, everything I did, I kept wishing that you were with me to share it all. Jeannie, you’re with me now, and you’re here to stay!”

“That’s right.”

Arm in arm they walked up to the house. “How is Jack?” Ralph asked as they entered the front hall. “I was beside myself with worry when you wrote about him.”

“I’m fine,” Jack called from the front parlor. Ralph dashed into the parlor where the family was waiting for him.

“Welcome home, son,” Mrs. Craig said, embracing him. “We all missed you very much.”

Doris threw her arms around Ralph’s neck and kissed him. “Jean’s been nearly wild waiting for you,” she cried.

“Oh, Doris!” Jean cried.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you aren’t going to be coy when you’re engaged to the man?” Doris said. “We were _all_ wild waiting for you!”

“Good to see you again,” Tommy said, holding out his hand.

Ralph grabbed the hand and tousled Tommy’s hair. “Hi, Tom. It’s great to be back.” Then he went over to the couch and knelt down beside Jack. “Hi, old-timer,” he said, taking Jack’s hand. “I hear you’ve been into mischief since I last saw you. How are you feeling?”

“Just swell,” Jack said. “I’m getting lazy. How do you like my deal? Everyone waits on me. I don’t have to do any chores. Whatta life!”

Ralph made a swipe at Jack’s chin with his fist. “Yep, some life,” he agreed. “You and I have a lot of hours to spend together. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

Mrs. Craig brought in a tray of food, and Doris set up a card table near the couch.

“You must be hungry,” Mrs. Craig said as she arranged the table. “I’d take you into the dining room, but Jack probably wants you in here with him.”

Ralph slipped his arm around Mrs. Craig’s waist. “Why is it that mothers always think people don’t eat while they travel?”

Mrs. Craig made a face at him and said, “Very well, I’ll just take this right back to the kitchen.”

“Hey, hey,” Ralph said, snatching a cookie from the plate she picked up. “I’ll eat everything in sight. I _am_ hungry!”

They all laughed, and Mrs. Craig poured out steaming cups of hot chocolate for everyone. Jean propped Jack up on the couch so that he could manage his cup.

“Now, then,” Mrs. Craig said, “tell us what you’ve been doing.”

Ralph stopped munching his cookie and looked at her. “Don’t tell me Jeannie hasn’t kept you posted?”

They all roared. “We can practically recite your letters by heart,” Doris teased.

“Not all of them, I hope,” Ralph protested.

“Aw, she always left out the mushy parts,” Jack said. “She just read the _interesting_ things.”

Ralph chuckled and winked at Jack. “Well, I did run into one good story that I didn’t write Jeannie about. Right in Bergen. I was working with a boy quite a bit younger than myself. He was the leader of the underground movement during the war. After Norway was occupied by the Nazis, that is.”

“Oh, good heavens!” Mrs. Craig cried. “Those poor people!”

Ralph looked up at her thoughtfully and then said, “Well, I don’t pity them. Not after what I’ve seen.”

“Why, Ralph!” Jean cried. “Whatever do you mean?”

Ralph smiled. “They don’t want our pity, Jeannie,” he said softly. “They need our help and understanding, but not pity. I wish I could honestly say I had the nerve that that boy had. I admire him, and I admire them all.”

“I’ll bet he had some stories to tell,” Tommy said.

“He wasn’t much older than you, Tom, when the Nazis invaded,” Ralph said. “And he went right into the Underground. Blew bridges and railroad tracks and things like that.”

Mrs. Craig slipped her arm around Tommy’s shoulder protectively. “Heavens!” she cried. “A child like Tommy?”

“They had quite an arsenal,” Ralph chuckled. “And you’ll never believe where their headquarters were. In the basement of Gestapo Headquarters. Two of their boys were accepted into the Gestapo. Not one message went out of Gestapo Headquarters that the Underground didn’t know about.”

“Mercy!” Mrs. Craig cried. “It makes me tremble just to think about it.”

Ralph smiled. “You don’t need to be sorry for people who went through a war that way. Now they’re working like beavers to build up their disrupted country. Their schools are all open, their railroads are working just fine. The country looks good, and the people ... they’re wonderful.”

Jean shook her head. “But all of occupied Europe isn’t like that, Ralph?”

“Some countries are further along than others, of course. Paris looked pretty good to me. Of course, in the eastern countries ... well, I didn’t get a chance to see for myself,” Ralph said. “But now I have an idea of the job we farmers have on our hands. Jeannie and I are going to be pretty busy.” He swallowed the rest of his hot chocolate. “I’m going upstairs to unpack. I’ve got some things to give out.”

Tommy carried his bag upstairs, and Ralph ran up behind him. Mrs. Craig smiled heavily. “He’s seen a great deal,” she said gravely. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt any of us to see what Europe is like today.”

Ralph came bounding into the room, his arms full of packages. “Here we are,” he announced. “Now, let’s see. Oh yes, this is for you, Mother Craig,” he said, handing her a parcel. Mrs. Craig exclaimed as she opened the package and found a Swedish linen dinner cloth. “It’s magnificent!” she cried. “Ralph, this is too much!”

He kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad you like it, dear,” he answered.

For Tommy and Jack, Ralph had brought rucksacks from Bavaria, and for Doris, Ralph had a music box from Dresden. Doris handled the delicate instrument lovingly and turned it on. It played an air from _Don Giovanni_.

“I couldn’t resist it when I heard it,” Ralph said. “I remembered how fond you were of Mozart.”

“Oh, Ralph!” Doris cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

“This is for Kit,” Ralph said, pointing to a package. “Maybe you can tuck it in her laundry case when you send it. It’s a Polish gypsy outfit. I found it in Paris; I think it’s probably a Frenchman’s _idea_ of a Polish gypsy dress. But it looked so much like Kit that I had to bring it along.”

He produced a chiming Swiss watch for Mr. Craig, and then he handed Jean her package. Slowly she opened it. It was a set of earrings and bracelet and pin.

“It’s not the real thing, Jeannie,” Ralph explained. “Costume jewelry, I guess you call it. But it’s an exclusive Jacques Fath. I picked it up in Paris.”

Jean sighed with delight as she fingered the filigreed pieces, “I’ve never had anything so beautiful.”

“And French perfume for all the ladies,” Ralph announced, handing out the tiny packages.

Everyone squealed and exclaimed over the dainty scents. Mrs. Craig shook her head in mock resignation. “What am I going to do with you, son? You spoil us all so.”

Ralph kissed her and grinned. “My family is a very special one. Oh, here are a couple of gadgets for Aunt Becky and the Judge. Well, we can see about them later.”

Mrs. Craig smiled tenderly at the young man. “Now, somehow, the family seems almost whole again.”

8. Jean and Ralph Discuss Their Future

That evening, after dinner, Jean and Ralph slipped out of the house and almost automatically headed down their favorite path to the banks of the small river. They held hands as they walked. There was no need for talk. Each felt warmly secure in the presence of the other.

Jean didn’t trust herself to speak until they had reached the river. Every time she started to say something, the loneliness of the past months welled up in her and tears came to her eyes. Then she would clasp Ralph’s hand harder, as if to reassure herself that he had really returned.

Ralph chuckled as they came to the river bank. “It’s really me, darling,” he said softly. “I know how you feel, because I feel the same way.”

Jean laid his hand against her cheek and let a few pent-up tears fall. Ralph cupped her chin in his free hand and smiled at his beloved tenderly.

“Tears for me?” he asked softly. “My little Jeannie, you mustn’t cry!”

Jean smiled and nodded. “It’s foolish to spoil your first evening at home this way.” She shook her head as if to forbid further tears.

Ralph laughed. “It’s not spoiled. If anything, it’s enhanced. You know, when you love someone as much as I love you, it’s hard to believe that she can care so much for you. It’s wonderful to find out.”

She grinned. “But there’s so _much_ to talk about, Ralph! So much has happened in the past two years which we have to talk about. Tears don’t say anything!”

Ralph laughed again. “They say plenty, Jeannie. But if we must return to the world of mundane facts, let’s hear about your past two years.”

She giggled. “So my activities seem dull to you,” she teased.

Ralph tousled her curly hair. “You’re a flirt, aren’t you? The feminine mind can be _so_ illogical!”

Jean sat down under a tall maple tree. She leaned against Ralph’s shoulder. “Now tell me,” she said. “Something happened while you were abroad which is bothering you. I could see it in your eyes all the time you were talking with the family.”

Ralph picked a blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “It’s strange how one can be impressed by having a new light thrown on something which he always knew but which never seemed important before.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“You know what my ranch in Saskatoon is like, don’t you, Jeannie? I mean, you know what the land is like.”

“I know you have grain and some live stock....”

“And that a lot of my land isn’t cleared of forests as yet?”

She nodded.

Ralph drew his pipe from his coat pocket and lit it. “About once a year I get a letter from the government asking me what I plan to do with my uncut timber. I never paid much attention to it before. I liked having the trees there. It was good for the soil. But I saw something in Paris which has changed my mind completely.”

Jean looked at him in surprise. “What could happen in Paris that could affect your forests?” she asked.

Ralph laughed. “This, my dear, is a good lesson in the size of the world today. I live on an isolated Canadian ranch. But I have the power, out there, to help or hinder businesses all over the world. That timber I have should be cut and shipped to wood pulp manufacturers. But let’s start at the beginning.”

Jean giggled. “That would help,” she admitted.

“You remember, I wrote you about attending the newspaper convention in Paris last fall?”

Jean nodded.

“I wish you could have been there. Newspaper men from all over the world, except from behind the Iron Curtain, attended it. It was marvelous! Journalism professors from midwestern universities in the United States rubbed shoulders and exchanged ideas with editors from Iran and Tasmania. Believe me, it was a conference of tremendous importance! I attended it, because I was in Paris to investigate crop production of central France, and a friend of mine invited me to attend.”

“You wrote something about the conference, I remember,” she said.

“Well, all these editors have the same complaint. There’s not enough wood pulp in the world to furnish the newspapers with newsprint. In a way, it’s wonderful, because that indicates that countries are printing more papers. And that new countries are insisting on better and bigger papers. Egypt, for example, has more newspapers than ever before. And, of course, one of the first projects Israel, as a new country, undertook was the establishing of fine papers.

“But we must have more wood pulp! As long as each of these countries, large and small, can have their papers, this world is comparatively safe. These papers can carry news ... facts of the world ... right to the doors of all the people in the world. Then, the people themselves can decide what is good and what is bad in this world.”

Jean sighed. “It sounds like a tremendous undertaking.”

“It is! And, Jeannie, if you could have seen those men! Arabians, who have been literate for only a generation, were demanding free press for their people. Mexicans pleaded for more newsprint to help educate their people. The Israeli, of course, put the need for communications, the need for stimulating the minds of their countrymen, above almost everything else.”

Jean nodded. “Now I begin to see.”

Ralph threw away the blade of grass. “Of course I can’t do much with the small forests I own. But I’ll do everything I can. When I get back to Saskatoon, I’m going to start the largest project of timber cutting and reforestation I can possibly undertake. You see, Jeannie, Canada and Norway are practically the only countries in the world who can produce wood pulp. If the job is up to us, then we’ve got to do it.”

Jean nodded solemnly. “Then that’s what you were doing in Norway,” she said.

“Well, I had to go there, anyway, on business. But you can be sure that I checked on the story of their wood pulp supply pretty carefully. It isn’t too good. They do what they can. But Canada is so much larger and has so many more forests.”

Jean suddenly giggled. “I’m intrigued with the idea of your being a lumberjack.”

Ralph smiled. “I’ll be one; you’ll be one. The children will be chopping timber as soon as they learn to crawl!”

She shook her head. “You know, dear,” she said, “we all have to contribute to this life in the way we’re best equipped.”

Ralph nodded. “That’s true,” he agreed.

She smiled in spite of herself as she said, “I’ll be glad to buy myself a pair of spiked hightop boots and become a lumberjack, if you say so. But there is something else I can do better.”

“And that is?” he asked.

“I’m almost ashamed to tell you now,” Jean confessed, “because I’ll be consuming paper rather than making it.”

Ralph chuckled. “That’s what it’s made for. Now, tell me.”

Jean told him of the plans which Dr. Barsch had made for her. How she would take a correspondence course in art after they were married, and how, when she finished her course, she would contract to do sketches of operations at a nearby hospital for the medical publishers.

Ralph thought about the plan for a few minutes. “It’s a very good idea,” he said gravely.

“You see, medicine and improved operative techniques are important, too,” Jean said slyly.

Ralph chuckled. “I can’t deny you,” he grinned. “You know, there’s a small hospital about five miles from the ranch. It’s a very good one, and I know the board of directors there very well. I think they’d like the idea. I’m sure we can arrange it.”

“Then you don’t mind my working after we’re married?” she asked.

Ralph shook his head. “One of the reasons I fell in love with you, Jean, is that you seem to thrive on being busy. There’s something so sturdy about you and your family. Take your father, for instance. I saw a lot of men when they came out of the Army in bad shape. But I never saw one who was more miserable because he couldn’t be working from dawn to dusk every day.”

Jean sighed. “He’s like a different man now that he is working again. Poor Dad! None of us even suspected how hard his invalid days were on him till they were over.”

Ralph nodded. “You haven’t told me all the details of this new job,” he said.

“Well, it’s very simple,” Jean explained. “You see, two years ago the town decided to back a veterans’ housing project. Dad offered to be the architect for the project. After years of inactivity, he was nearly out of his mind. And of course he was terribly interested in anything to help the young men and their families.”

“Of course,” Ralph said. “I remember that part. He was just starting the assignment when I went abroad.”

“It’s taken two years to complete the project,” Jean said. “There were some difficulties. A lot of people didn’t want low cost housing in town. And then some ... well, I think they’re just plain bad people, were afraid the project might attract new people to the community. You know, minority groups and,” she giggled, “even non-New Englanders.”

“But the project did go through,” Ralph said.

“Oh yes,” she cried. “Those foolish people were definitely in the minority themselves. It finally was accomplished in the good old New England tradition of a town meeting. The few ignorant objectors were laughed and hooted right out of the meeting, too.” She smiled at the memory.

“But to get back to Dad,” she continued. “After he had finished designing the houses for the project, he was swamped with orders. And eager as he was to fill them, he was very intelligent. He insisted on very regular checkups with Dr. Daley, our internist at the clinic. But everything went just fine. He seemed to get better all the time. So now he’s opened his own office, and he’s busy all the time.”

“That’s marvelous,” Ralph said. “I can’t remember ever seeing your father look so well.”

Jean smiled tenderly. “I guess that about brings you up to date.”

Ralph put his arm around her. “Good,” he said. “Now, let’s talk about us. Seems to me I hear wedding bells in my head. How about you?”

Jean giggled. “My, what a tender proposal!” she teased.

Ralph drew back in mock horror. “But I’ve _already_ proposed!” he protested. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”