The dark eyes grew dim as she watched it.
"Oh! Frank, I must have a doctor," she said, tremulously.
"No, Ruth; I can sleep now. I'll be better in the morning. A doctor
will know me."
"But I have one I can trust," she replied, pressing his hand.
He shook his head, closing his eyes.
"You can't stand up against the wind and sleet. It's awful. You
can't walk a block. Don't try it."
She watched his mouth twitch with pain.
"I will try it," she answered, firmly. "Lucy will watch with you
till I get back."
When Ruth called and told her, the little hands clasped, a cry
burst from her heart, and she kissed her mother impulsively.
While his daughter sat by the bedside gently stroking his big
blue-veined hand, Gordon dozed in sleep and Ruth crept out into
the wild night on her mission of love.
She was half an hour going and coming four blocks. Three times the
wind threw her on the freezing pavements. When she climbed up her
own steps her clothing was shrouded in an inch of snow and ice,
her cheeks were red and swollen, and her hands were bleeding, but
a smile played about her lips. The doctor was coming.
He assured her that the wounds were not fatal, and left instructions
for dressing them.
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