Granny Dan Read Online Free PDF Page B

doctors to Danina. The elder, the venerable Dr. Botkin, was himself felled at the time with a bout of mild influenza. But Dr. Nikolai Obrajensky, whom Danina had met that summer in Livadia, was at the ballet school, asking for Madame Markova long before dinner. And she was greatly relieved to see him, and murmured anxiously about the kindness of the Czarina when she met him. She was still so upset over Danina's condition at the time that she scarcely noticed how much he resembled the Czar, though in a somewhat younger version.
    “How is she?” the doctor asked gently. He could see from the state of Madame Markova's distress that the young ballerina must be no better. But even he, having seen severe cases of influenza at the hospital, had not expected to find the young dancer so ill, or so worn by the illness that seemed to have ravaged her nearly totally in the two days she'd had it. She was dehydrated, delirious, and when he took her temperature, he checked it again, unable to believe it was as high as the thermometer said. He had little hope for her survival after he read it again, and examined her carefully, and he finally turned to Madame Markova with a dismal expression. “I'm afraid you already know what I am going to say … don't you?” he said, looking deeply sympathetic. He could see, from the woman's eyes, how much she loved Danina. She was like a daughter to her.
    “Please … I can't bear it …” she said, dropping her face into her hands, too exhausted and strained herself to tolerate the blow he was about to deal her. “She's so young … so talented … she's only nineteen … she must not die. You must not let her,” she said fiercely, looking up at him again, wanting something from him he could not give her. Hope, if not assurance.
    “I cannot help her,” he said honestly. “She would not even survive the trip to the hospital. Perhaps if she is still with us in a few days, we can move her.” But he thought it less than likely, and Madame Markova knew that. “All you can do is try to keep her cool to bring the fever down, bathe her with cool cloths, and force her to drink as much as you can. The rest is in God's hands, Madame. Perhaps He needs her more than we do.” His tone was kind, but he could not lie to her. He was only amazed that she had survived this long. He knew that some had died on the day the dreaded influenza felled them. And she had had it for two days now. “Do what you can for her, but know that you cannot work miracles, Madame. We can only pray now, and hope that He listens,” Dr. Obrajensky said somberly. He had no hope for Danina.
    “I understand,” she said bleakly.
    He sat with them for a while, and took her temperature again. It had risen slightly, and Madame Markova was already applying the cool cloths he had recommended. The students were bringing them to her, and keeping them damp and cool, but she would not let them in the room with her, for fear that they would get it. The five girls who normally occupied the room with her had been sent to the main dormitory to sleep on cots or on mattresses with the others. Their room was completely off-limits to them.
    “How is she now?” Madame Markova asked him anxiously after she had been bathing Danina's chest and arms and face with cool cloths for an hour. The patient was completely unaware of their presence or attention, as she lay deathly pale and trembling, her face as white as the sheets she lay on.
    “She is about the same,” he answered when he checked her again. He didn't want to tell Madame Markova that he thought she was even a trifle warmer. “She will not improve so quickly.” If ever, which he doubted. But even he was struck by how lovely Danina was as she lay lifelessly before them. She was a striking beauty, her features exquisitely delicate, her body minute and incredibly graceful. Her long dark brown hair was fanned out behind her on the pillow. But she had the look of someone near death, he knew only