The Street of the City Read Free Page B

know it is full of hot water and standing over the burner. You can wrap the blankets around the bags and that will keep them hot and save a lot of time.”
    “That’s a good idea!” said the young man. “You’ve been through a lot of sickness in your lifetime and you know what to do.”
    “Well, I couldn’t have done much if you hadn’t responded to my call. And it couldn’t have been easy walking up that hill with skates on, either.”
    The young man grinned and, turning, was soon plunging down the hillside, the big blanket-wrapped bundle held firmly as he sprang out on the ice and went skimming away again. What a fellow he was! How wise and brisk and efficient!
    Lady Winthrop found she was quite weak with excitement when he was gone, and she sat down suddenly to rest and get her breath.
    “Well,” she said aloud to herself, “to think all this would happen the first time when I was alone. If Joe were only here with the car I’d have been over there myself long ago seeing what I could do to help that poor woman. And now here I am, just a go-between. But perhaps that’s needed just now more than anything else, to do the telephoning.”
    Then she got to thinking about that little brick house up the river and the people who had just moved in. Would they have plenty to eat? Food fit for a sick woman? The sick mother and the little girl who had come across the icy way alone. She must see what food was quickly available in the refrigerator, in case somebody came back again. At least she could send it over by Joseph when he got back. Neither the woman nor the little girl would be able to do any cooking, of course.
    There was a good bowl of chicken soup Hannah made last night. She always made enough for two or three days. And there would be some chicken breast, of course; there always was. She decided to fill one Thermos bottle with the hot soup, and the other with hot coffee. So she went to work, making delicate little chicken sandwiches, heating the soup and the coffee, and working happily in her own kitchen, where her faithful servants had not allowed her to lift a finger to work for years. It was fun, she told herself.
    Yet all the time she was watching out the kitchen window, looking for somebody to come down the river. She worked swiftly to be ready if anyone came. And then she saw her young knight come out of the brick cottage and down the icy pathway, and she hurried into the living room to be ready to open the front door for him in case he came up again.
    He came. With that grave, competent smile on his face.
    “She’s recovered consciousness fully now,” he announced as he stepped inside the room and shut the door after him. “The doctor isn’t sure yet how serious it is, but at least she is able to speak. He says it looks to him as if it might be merely a case of exhaustion from having worked too hard on too little food. Of course the heart might be more affected then he can tell at present, but he hopes it isn’t serious. And the first thing that woman said when she came to herself was, ‘Don’t let my daughter know I fainted. Please don’t! She’ll be so worried, and she mustn’t lose her job! I’ll be all right now.’ The nurse is going to try to make something for her to eat, but there doesn’t seem to be much that’s suitable in the house. The doctor told me to ask if you can spare a little milk for immediate use. The child says her mother ate no breakfast this morning.”
    “Milk? Why certainly! Here’s a whole bottle. Wait, I’ll get a basket. I have some other things ready. Coffee and chicken soup in Thermos bottles, and some chicken sandwiches. I thought that mother had been too used up to do much cooking. And here, put in a loaf of bread and a carton of butter. Some oranges, too, might come in handy.”
    “That’s great, Lady Winthrop, I’m sure they’ll all come in for use and everybody grateful, including the nurse and doctor. I don’t think the people are exactly poor, just