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Updated: June 16, 2025
Julia, thrilled by she knew not what, knotted her flying hair loosely on her neck and buttoned on a fresh uniform. Ten minutes later she admitted Doctor Studdiford to the sickroom. He had laid aside his hat and washed his hands. Now he sat down by the bed and smiled at the dazed, moaning little Maude.
The sunlight twinkled here and there on a polished surface, and flung a trembling bright reflection on the ceiling from the brass faucets of the sink. A clock on the wall struck seven. As the last stroke sounded, Julia Studdiford quietly opened the hall door and stepped into the kitchen.
For obvious reasons, her home was not suitable; would she suggest a time and place? He was always hers faithfully, James Studdiford. Anna, glowing and delicious, was leaning against Julia's shoulder as Julia read and reread the little document. The mother looked down obliquely at the little rose-leaf face, the blue, blue eyes, the fresh, firm, baby mouth.
For Miss Toland's surmises were delivered at a sort of shriek. "Oo oo oo!" shuddered Julia, fearful eyes on the assembly room door. "He was we were just talking " "Is he dead, Jim?" asked Miss Toland fearfully. "I think so. I'm going to call the hospital for an ambulance, anyway." Doctor Studdiford was all brisk authority. "But what ever possessed him?" shrilled Miss Toland again. "Of all THINGS!"
"I think we can ease her along a little now, and I need Miss Wheaton." Jim pushed his hair back with a wet hand; cleared his throat. "Sure. D'you want me to scrub up?" he asked huskily. "Oh, no no, my dear boy! Everything's going splendidly." The doctor beckoned him in, and shut the door. "Now, Mrs. Studdiford," said he, "we'll be all right here in no time!"
James Studdiford, walking down to his club, an hour later, with the memory of his aunt's joyous congratulations ringing in his ears, and of Julia's last warm little kiss upon his cheek, was perhaps more miserable than he had been before in the course of his life.
Julia could not spend the empty days staring dreamily out at the rolling green Pacific; every man on board was anxious to improve her acquaintance, from the Captain to the seventeen-year-old little English lad who was going out to his father in India, and to not one of them did it ever occur that lovely little Mrs. Studdiford might prefer to be left alone.
There were seven children, five girls and two boys; there was the gracious, genial mother at the head and the wiry, gray-haired and gray-bearded surgeon at the foot; there was, as usual, Jim Studdiford, and to-day, besides, there was Aunt Sanna, an unmarried younger sister of the doctor, and a little black-eyed, delicate ten-year-old guest of the eleven-year-old Janie, Keith Borroughs, who was sitting near to Janie, and evidently adoring that spirited chatterbox.
"I know I can go on as I am, reading and thinking, and listening to other people, and keeping quiet when I have nothing to say, but but when I think of being Mrs. James Studdiford " "Oh, I love to hear you say it!" Jim leaned across the table, and put one warm big hand over hers. "My darling little wife!"
"He's beautiful, Kennedy; no wonder you're proud!" And she tore her beautiful bunch of roses apart, that each girl might have a few. "I've got to get her to the train!" Jim protested presently, trying patiently to disengage his wife's hands, eyes, and attention. "Julia! Julia Studdiford!" "Yes, I know!"
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