The spring of 1907 after Leonard's wedding I was rather run down but did see more of Lionel Chambers. He and Scott Hancock had joined each other in a law office. Some of their more experienced lawyer friends would turn over a case to them and they had begun to make a little money. Mr. Chambers took me to a concert or a picture show more often. His mother played the piano and sang beautifully and he enjoyed going to St. Luke's Hospital to spend an evening or afternoon with her while she sang. She had been a choir singer in England. Mrs. Chambers became director or supervisor of nurses at St. Luke's in 1898.
Charles O'Fallon had more houseparties and the usual dinners at Mary Semple's, Mattie Sproule's, etc., followed. But father again told me I should see more of the men who went to those parties and quit going with Mr. Chambers. Then father wrote a note to Mr. Chambers whose companionship I really enjoyed, forbidding him to see me or call me. So that was that! The doctor I saw before Len's wedding told mother that they should send me where I could have complete rest and not see anyone, read interesting helpful books, etc. They sent me to Mullanphy Hospital, a Roman Catholic institution near Carr and Mullanphy Streets. In later years this hospital merged with DePaul Hospital. Mullanphy Hospital was so far from all of my friends and relatives that it was not likely anyone would find out where I had gone. Some member of my family came to see me now and then. A little home-cooked food was brought to me. There were no telephones for patients - just strict Roman Catholic discipline. To make things worse it was Lent. The nurses were more attentive to their prayers than their patients. One day I had a sick headache and rang for the nurse. Nausea came so suddenly that I vomited over the bed. I rang and rang for a nurse. Finally she came but scolded me for interfering with her prayers. Then she gathered up the soiled bedding and left. Again I waited and waited with no attention. Then I went into the hall and rang an alarm bell. People rushed to see what was the matter. I asked for the Mother Superior. She came and I told her about the actions of the nurse. The Mother Superior called her and asked for an explanation. The unpleasant nurse had to do penance for a week. Then they sent me a lovely young woman Sister Christon (or Chrisostom??) under whose care I improved. She was quiet, gentle, and quick. I heard that she served that hospital over thirty-five years. When the doctor came he thought I looked better but said that two more weeks would help. I could not bear to think of this. After a week had passed I was so desperate that I thought of suicide or some way to escape. I knew my room was on the second floor, and also that there was a streetcar line nearby. I tried to tear a sheet into strips to make a line long enough to reach the pavement. This tied to a bedpost would be strong enough to let me down. Alas the sheet would not tear and no scissors were available. My sister Mary came to see me on a gloomy day after this plan failed. She saw tears on my cheeks. After she heard about my plan she went to see father and mother and told them they should let me come home. They finally did. The only thing that pleased me was being able to enjoy my own comfortable bed. I did not want to see anyone or let anybody know where I had been "exiled" for a rest cure. This had been the deepest and darkest depression of my normally cheerful life. It was May and there were beautiful flowers in our garden. I thanked God for these and for my bees that needed attention. Jens had taken good care of the bees. We spent a day going over the frames to destroy queen cells. There were now five hives in good condition.
Several things happened in Edith Collins' family about this time. Her brother Blakesley married a beautiful girl from Chicago who was congenial with Edith. Mr. Collins sold their big house and grounds on Page and Belt Avenues to Principia school. Edith and her father went to Florida to spend part of the winter and spring. While there they had trouble with a woman who had been pursuing Mr. Collins for a long time. She blackmailed him and tried to make him marry her. This leaked out and caused Edith worry over her devoted father. Edith and Claude Kennerly were engaged to marry. When Edith and her father returned to St. Louis they took an apartment for a time while they were building a house in Lenox Place. Another friend, Felicia Judson, had become engaged to Governor Calhoun. Felicia, an only child, lived with her parents in a handsome house on Washington Avenue not far from several of my friends. Mr. Judson was a prominent lawyer and it was not surprising that his daughter should become engaged to a lawyer. Her father was friendly and helpful to some of the lawyers who lived in the bachelor hone at 3634 Washington Avenue. Lionel Chambers was one of them. Governour Calhoun asked Lionel Chambers to be one of his groomsmen. The canes presented to the groomsmen were marked on silver bands around the elkhorn handle. Lionel Chambers' cane has his initials W.L.G. and October 26, 1907. (Fifty-eight years later I now use this cane regularly. It had to be shortened for me.)
Felicia Judson was graduated from Mary Institute in 1894, a year before my date. She was in the same class with Edith Collins and Clara Leete who were close friends of mine until they died. Felicia was very intelligent and had an interesting and busy life. We became better friends after I married. Elaborate plans were made for her wedding. This happened during my black year of 1907. I suppose I was invited to the wedding but I have no memory of it - only the cane that tells the date. Like a number of other things that must have happened during 1907 and part of 1908, Ella Cochran's marriage to Dr. Greenfield Sluder is a blank. She and Lionel Chambers were like sister and brother and he probably took part in the wedding. The Sluders became friends of mine after they chaperoned one of the O'Fallon houseparties.