Oh, wait for me, Doctor; we're both in the same boat!

BEELER.

Hope you gentlemen will come back again to-night, and soon too. Don't know what'll happen if things go wrong in there.

_Points towards the hall._

LITTLEFIELD.

All right--you can count on me--

BEELER.

_To Culpepper._

And you?

CULPEPPER.

I seldom shirk my duty.

_Beeler closes the door after them._

_Martha enters from the kitchen, with a pan of dough, which she sets before the fire to raise._

BEELER.

You keepin' an eye out, Marthy?

MARTHA.

Guess your barn'd 'a' been afire, if I hadn't been keepin' an eye out.

BEELER.

I warned 'em about fire!

MARTHA.

Haymow ketched. If I hadn't been there to put it out, we'd 'a' been without a roof by now.

BEELER.

Guess I better go keep an eye out myself.

MARTHA.

Guess you had!

_Beeler goes out by the kitchen. Martha takes up mechanically her eternal task of setting things to rights--gathering up Annie's toys and arranging the furniture in more precise order. Meanwhile, Rhoda enters from the hall with the mother of the sick child, a frail young woman of nervous type. She clings to Rhoda feverishly._

MOTHER.

Don't leave me!

RHODA.

You mustn't worry. Your baby will get well.

_Rhoda sinks in a low easy chair before the fire, and the woman kneels beside her, her face hidden on the chair arm._

You must keep up your courage and your trust. That will help more than anything.

MOTHER.

I'm afraid!

RHODA.

Think of those others out there, who are waiting too, without the glimpse of comfort you've had.

MOTHER.

_Bursts out._

I ain't had no comfort! When I heard him pray for my child, I--I don't know--I kept sayin' to myself--"O G.o.d, it's me that's stretchin' out my hands to you, not him. Don't punish me for his cold words!"

_Martha, who has been listening, shakes her head significantly._

RHODA.

Cold words!

MOTHER.

Yes, I know it's wrong. I'll try to feel different. It's because I ain't had nothin' to do with religion for so long.--If my baby gets well, I'll make up for it. I'll make up for everything.

_The woman rises. Rhoda kisses her._

RHODA.

I shall be here if you want me. And I shall--pray for you.

_The mother goes out. Distant singing is heard. Martha comes to the mantelpiece with matches, which she arranges in the match tray. She looks at Rhoda, who sits with closed eyes._

MARTHA.

Guess you're about dead beat.