“What have I done, Max? Is it bad for discipline for us to be good friends?”
“Damn discipline!” said the pride of the staff.
Carlotta was watching them from the chapel. Something in her eyes roused the devil of mischief that always slumbered in him.
“My car's been stalled in a snowdrift downtown since early this morning, and I have Ed's Peggy in a sleigh. Put on your things and come for a ride.”
He hoped Carlotta could hear what he said; to be certain of it, he maliciously raised his voice a trifle.
“Just a little run,” he urged. “Put on your warmest things.”
Sidney protested. She was to be free that afternoon until six o'clock; but she had promised to go home.
“K. can sit with Christine. Ten to one, he's with her now.”
The temptation was very strong. She had been working hard all day. The heavy odor of the hospital, mingled with the scent of pine and evergreen in the chapel; made her dizzy. The fresh outdoors called her. And, besides, if K. were with Christine--
“And yet, you continue to tempt me and expect me to yield!”
“One of the most delightful things about temptation is yielding now and then.”
After all, the situation seemed absurd. Here was her old friend and neighbor asking to take her out for a daylight ride. The swift rebellion of youth against authority surged up in Sidney.
Carlotta had gone by that time--gone with hate in her heart and black despair. She knew very well what the issue would be. Sidney would drive with him, and he would tell her how lovely she looked with the air on her face and the snow about her. The jerky motion of the little sleigh would throw them close together. How well she knew it all! He would touch Sidney's hand daringly and smile in her eyes. That was his method: to play at love-making like an audacious boy, until quite suddenly the cloak dropped and the danger was there.
The Christmas excitement had not died out in the ward when Carlotta went back to it. On each bedside table was an orange, and beside it a pair of woolen gloves and a folded white handkerchief. There were sprays of holly scattered about, too, and the after-dinner content of roast turkey and ice-cream.
The lame girl who played the violin limped down the corridor into the ward. She was greeted with silence, that truest tribute, and with the instant composing of the restless ward to peace.