Part 21 (1/2)
”And now,” said Dr. Mackenzie unexpectedly, ”the next thing to be done, Nurse Gray, is to introduce you to the patient.”
Jane felt the blood slowly leave her face and concentrate in a terrible pounding at her heart. But she stood her ground, and waited silently.
Dr. Mackenzie rang the bell. Simpson appeared.
”A decanter of sherry, a wine-gla.s.s, and a couple of biscuits,” said Dr. Rob.
Simpson vanished.
”Little beast!” thought Jane. ”At eleven o'clock in the morning!”.
Dr. Rob stood, and waited; tugging spitefully at his red moustache, and looking intently out of the window.
Simpson reappeared, placed a small tray on the table, and went quietly out, closing the door behind him.
Dr. Rob poured out a gla.s.s of sherry, drew up a chair to the table, and said: ”Now, Nurse, sit down and drink that, and take a biscuit with it.”
Jane protested. ”But, indeed, doctor, I never--”
”I have no doubt you 'never,'” said Dr. Rob, ”especially at eleven o'clock in the morning. But you will to-day; so do not waste any time in discussion. You have had a long night journey; you are going upstairs to a very sad sight indeed, a strain on the nerves and sensibilities. You have come through a trying interview with me, and you are praising Heaven it is over. But you will praise Heaven with more fervency when you have drunk the sherry. Also you have been standing during twenty-three minutes and a half. I always stand to speak myself, and I prefer folk should stand to listen. I can never talk to people while they loll around. But you will walk upstairs all the more steadily, Nurse Rosemary Gray, if you sit down now for five minutes at this table.”
Jane obeyed, touched and humbled. So, after all, it was a kind, comprehending heart under that old sealskin waistcoat; and a shrewd understanding of men and matters, in spite of the erratic, somewhat objectionable exterior. While she drank the wine and finished the biscuits, he found busy occupation on the other side of the room, polis.h.i.+ng the window with his silk pocket-handkerchief; making a queer humming noise all the time, like a bee buzzing up the pane. He seemed to have forgotten her presence; but, just as she put down the empty gla.s.s, he turned and, walking straight across the room, laid his hand upon her shoulder.
”Now, Nurse,” he said, ”follow me upstairs, and, just at first, speak as little as possible. Remember, every fresh voice intruding into the still depths of that utter blackness, causes an agony of bewilderment and disquietude to the patient. Speak little and speak low, and may G.o.d Almighty give you tact and wisdom.”
There was a dignity of conscious knowledge and power in the small quaint figure which preceded Jane up the staircase. As she followed, she became aware that her spirit leaned on his and felt sustained and strengthened. The unexpected conclusion of his sentence, old-fas.h.i.+oned in its wording, yet almost a prayer, gave her fresh courage. ”May G.o.d Almighty give you tact and wisdom,” he had said, little guessing how greatly she needed them. And now another voice, echoing through memory's arches to organ-music, took up the strain: ”Where Thou art Guide, no ill can come.” And with firm though noiseless step, Jane followed Dr. Mackenzie into the roam where Garth was lying, helpless, sightless, and disfigured.
CHAPTER XIX
THE VOICE IN THE DARKNESS
Just the dark head upon the pillow. That was all Jane saw at first, and she saw it in suns.h.i.+ne. Somehow she had always pictured a darkened room, forgetting that to him darkness and light were both alike, and that there was no need to keep out the sunlight, with its healing, purifying, invigorating powers.
He had requested to have his bed moved into a corner--the corner farthest from door, fireplace, and windows--with its left side against the wall, so that he could feel the blank wall with his hand and, turning close to it, know himself shut away from all possible prying of unseen eyes. This was how he now lay, and he did not turn as they entered.
Just the dear dark head upon the pillow. It was all Jane saw at first.
Then his right arm in the sleeve of a blue silk sleeping-suit, stretched slightly behind him as he lay on his left side, the thin white hand limp and helpless on the coverlet.
Jane put her hands behind her. The impulse was so strong to fall on her knees beside the bed, take that poor hand in both her strong ones, and cover it with kisses. Ah surely, surely then, the dark head would turn to her, and instead of seeking refuge in the hard, blank wall, he would hide that sightless face in the boundless tenderness of her arms. But Deryck's warning voice sounded, grave and persistent: ”If you value your own eventual happiness and his--” So Jane put her hands behind her back.
Dr. Mackenzie advanced to the side of the bed and laid his hand upon Garth's shoulder. Then, with an incredible softening of his rather strident voice, he spoke so slowly and quietly, that Jane could hardly believe this to be the man who had jerked out questions, comments, and orders to her, during the last half-hour.
”Good morning, Mr. Dalmain. Simpson tells me it has been an excellent night, the best you have yet had. Now that is good. No doubt you were relieved to be rid of Johnson, capable though he was, and to be back in the hands of your own man again. These trained attendants are never content with doing enough; they always want to do just a little more, and that little more is a weariness to the patient.--Now I have brought you to-day one who is prepared to do all you need, and yet who, I feel sure, will never annoy you by attempting more than you desire. Sir Deryck Brand's prescription, Nurse Rosemary Gray, is here; and I believe she is prepared to be companion, secretary, reader, anything you want, in fact a new pair of eyes for you, Mr. Dalmain, with a clever brain behind them, and a kind, sympathetic, womanly heart directing and controlling that brain. Nurse Gray arrived this morning, Mr. Dalmain.”
No response from the bed. But Garth's hand groped for the wall; touched it, then dropped listlessly back.
Jane could not realise that SHE was ”Nurse Gray.” She only longed that her poor boy need not be bothered with the woman! It all seemed, at this moment, a thing apart from herself and him.
Dr. Mackenzie spoke again. ”Nurse Rosemary Gray is in the room, Mr.