Nurse Sarah looked, that it was something Mother wasn't going to like.
And I thought if maybe she didn't know yet she was going to have it,
that certainly _I_ didn't want to be the one to tell her. So I didn't
ask Mother what a divorce was.

I didn't even think of asking Father, of course. I never ask Father
questions. Nurse says I did ask him once why he didn't love me like
other papas loved their little girls. But I was very little then, and
I don't remember it at all. But Nurse said Father didn't like it very
well, and maybe I _did_ remember that part, without really knowing it.
Anyhow, I never think of asking Father questions.

I asked the doctor first. I thought maybe 't was some kind of a
disease, and if he knew it was coming, he could give them some sort
of a medicine to keep it away--like being vaccinated so's not to have
smallpox, you know. And I told him so.

He gave a funny little laugh, that somehow didn't sound like a laugh
at all. Then he grew very, very sober, and said:

"I'm sorry, little girl, but I'm afraid I haven't got any medicine
that will prevent--a divorce. If I did have, there'd be no eating or
drinking or sleeping for me, I'm thinking--I'd be so busy answering my
calls."

"Then it _is_ a disease!" I cried. And I can remember just how
frightened I felt. "But isn't there any doctor anywhere that _can_
stop it?"

He shook his head and gave that queer little laugh again.