"I love you advice; it's so Batesy," he said. "I have money saved
for both contingencies you mention, but I'll tell you what I
think, and about this I'm the one who knows. I've told you
repeatedly winter is my best time. I've lost the winter trying to
help you out; and I've little chance until winter comes again. It
takes cold weather to make folks feel what ails their muscles, and
my treatment is mostly muscular. To save so we can get a real
start, wouldn't it be a good idea for you to put part of your
things in my room, take what you must have, and fix Mother's
bedroom for you, let her move her bed into her living room, and
spare me all you can of your things to fix up your room for my
office this summer. That would save rent, it's only a few steps
from downtown, and when I wasn't busy with patients, I could be
handy to the garden, and to help you."
"If your mother is willing, I'll do my share," said Kate,
"although the room's cramped, and where I'll put the small party
when he comes I don't know, but I'll manage someway. The big
objection to it is that it will make it look to people as if it
were a makeshift, instead of starting a real business."
"Real," was the wrong word. It was the red rag that started
George raging, until to save her self-respect, Kate left the room.
Later in the day he announced that his mother was willing, she
would clean the living room and move in that day. How Kate hated
the tiny room with its one exterior wall, only one small window,
its scratched woodwork, and soiled paper, she could not say. She
felt physically ill when she thought of it, and when she thought
of the heat of the coming summer, she wondered what she would do;
but all she could do was to acquiesce. She made a trip downtown
and bought a quart of white paint and a few rolls of dainty, fresh
paper. She made herself ill with turpentine odours in giving the
woodwork three coats, and fell from a table almost killing herself
while papering the ceiling. There was no room for her trunk; the
closet would not hold half her clothes; her only easy chair was
crowded out; she was sheared of personal comfort at a clip, just
at a time when every comfort should have been hers. George
ordered an operating table, on which to massage his patients, a
few other necessities, and in high spirits, went about fixing up
his office and finishing his school. He spent hours in the
woodshed with the remainder of Kate's white paint, making a sign
to hang in front of the house.