Free The Street of the City by Grace Livingston Hill

“how are you feeling by now?”
    He peered keenly into her eyes and put a fine, soft hand over her wrist with a friendly motion, searching for the pulse which had been so weak that morning. Then he looked up at the nurse and gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.
    “Yes, Nurse, this is a good strong pulse,” he said decidedly. “You’ve done a good job of nursing here today. I think this lady will be coming around in a very few days. What do you think?”
    The nurse smiled at Frannie.
    “Yes, I thought she was getting along nicely,” she said happily.
    Frannie’s heart rose, and her joy was reflected in her happy eyes.
    “Oh, I’m so glad!” she breathed. “I was so afraid I should have come home, even though you did send me word it wasn’t necessary. I knew those movers were coming, and I knew Mother would worry about that.”
    “Yes, but my dear child, you didn’t realize that your mother was too ill at first to worry about anything, except that you should not be disturbed. And then as she got a little rested, there was the nurse, and she didn’t take long to get acquainted.”
    “No, I didn’t know all that,” murmured Frannie gravely with a bit of a sigh. “But, you see, I knew mother and how used she was to worrying.”
    The doctor gave her a quick glance of comprehension.
    “I see!” he said understandingly. “Well, we must fix it so that she won’t do any worrying, at least not for a while.”
    “Yes,” said Frannie with a suddenly troubled look in her eyes. “But that won’t be so easy to arrange.”
    “Oh, I think there’ll be a way to arrange that,” said the doctor comfortably. “You leave it to me. I’ll find a way. Now, Nurse, how much of that medicine have you got left? I see. Well, I’ll give you something else to go with it.”
    It was quiet in the room while the doctor was preparing his medicine and giving now and then a crisp instruction to the nurse. Frannie listened with a growing confidence. Then he rose and looked down at the patient.
    “Good night, Mrs. Fernley. I hope you will eat a nice little supper and then go to sleep and sleep until morning. I shall expect to find you greatly improved by morning when I run in again, but remember, if you want to get well quickly you must do just as the nurse says.”
    “But doctor,” said the invalid, “I should have told you. We are really poor people. We can’t afford to run up doctor’s and nurse’s bills. I’m sure I shall not need you again in the morning.”
    “There, there, my dear, we’re not running up bills. This is just a neighborly visit on my way home, so you needn’t worry. In fact, I like to be good friends with my patients, and I like to run in and get acquainted with them now and then. Now, Nurse Branner, is that all, or do you want to ask any questions?”
    He stood a moment at the door talking with the nurse, and Frannie stole near to her mother and softly kissed the frail hand that lay on the pillow.
    The mother smiled and murmured, “I’ll be all right, dear child. Don’t you worry!”
    “No, I won’t, Mother, if you do just as you are told. Now I’m going down and hunt some supper for you.”
    “Just some milk will do,” said the mother softly. “Don’t go to any trouble for me. I’ll be all right.”
    Frannie kissed her again and stole downstairs after the doctor.
    “Don’t worry about her supper,” said the nurse softly as she passed her at the door. “I saved a cup of that chicken broth for her.”
    Frannie flashed her a grateful glance and sped on after the doctor, who was standing in the room below with his hand on young Willoughby’s shoulder and a comradely look on his kind, benevolent face. They might have been talking about personal affairs or business matters, or even political and defense programs but in reality the doctor was saying, “My boy, I wonder if I can rely on you to keep me in touch with how things are going in this family. That little mother has gone