Part 68 (1/2)

”And I should have liked his?” he said, with one of those brilliant illuminations of eye and face.

”I think you would.”

”Then I have got all I can ask for,” he said. ”You are mine; and while we live in this world we belong to each other. Is it not so?”

There was mamma. But I could not speak of her. Even she could not prevent the truth of what Christian said; in one way it must be true. I gave no denial. Thorold clasped my hand very fast, and I stood breathless. Then suddenly I asked if he had had his breakfast? He laughed and said yes, and still clasped my hand in a grasp that said it was better than food and drink to him. I stood like one from under whose feet the ground is slipping away. I longed to know, but dared not ask, what had brought him there; whether he was suffering; the words would not come to my lips. I knew Dr. Sandford would be here by and by; how should I bear it? But I, and n.o.body but me, must do all that was done for this sufferer at least.

I left Mr. Thorold, to attend to duties that called me on all hands. I did them like one in a dream. Yet my ordinary manner was quiet, and I suppose n.o.body saw any difference; only I felt it. I was looking all the time for the moment of Dr.

Sandford's appearance, and praying for strength. It came, his visit, as everything does come, when its time was; and I followed him in his round; waiting and helping as there was want of me. I did it coolly, I know, with faculties sharpened by an intense motive and feelings engrossed with one thought.

I proved myself a good a.s.sistant; I knew Dr. Sandford approved of me; I triumphed, so far, in the consciousness that I had made good my claim to my position, and was in no danger of being shoved away on the score of incompetency.

”Doctor,” said Preston when we came round to him, ”won't you send away Miss Randolph out of a place that she is not fit for?”

”I will,” said Dr. Sandford grimly, ”when I find such a place.”

”Out of _this_ place, then, where she ought not to be; and you know it.”

”It would be your loss, my friend. You are exercising great self-denial, or else you speak in ignorance.”

”She might as well go on the stage at once!” said Preston bitterly. ”Singing half the night to sixty soldiers, - and won't give one a thing from Norma, then!”

The doctor gave one quick glance of his blue eye at me; it was a glance inquiring, recognising, touched, sympathising, all in an instant; it surprised me. Then it went coolly back to his work.

”What does she sing?”

”Psalms” - said Preston.

”Feverish tendency?” said the doctor.

Preston flung himself to one side, with a violent word, almost an oath, that shocked me. We left him and went on.

Or rather, went over; for at the instant Dr. Sandford's eye caught the new occupant of the opposite bed. I was glad to find that he did not recognise him.

The examination of Mr. Thorold's wounds followed. They were internal, and had been neglected. I do not know how I went through it; seeing how he went through it partly helped me, for I thought he did not seem to suffer greatly. His face was entirely calm, and his eye clear whenever it could catch mine.

But the operation was long; and I felt when it was over as if I had been through a battle myself. I was forced to leave him and go on with my attentions to the other sufferers in the ward; and I could not get back to Mr. Thorold till the dinner hour. I managed to be at his side to serve him then. But he had the use of his arms and hands and did not need feeding, like some of the others.

”It is worth being here, Daisy,” said Mr. Thorold, when I came with his dinner; which was, however, a light one.

”No,” said I. Speaking in low tones, which I was accustomed to use to all there, we were in little danger of being overheard.

”Not to you,” said he with a laughing flash of his eye; ”I only spoke of my own sense of things. That is as I tell you.”

”How do you do now?” I asked tremblingly.

His eye changed, softened, lifted itself to mine with a beautiful glow in it. I half knew what was coming before he spoke.

”We know in whose hands I am,” he said. ”I have earned the 'right to my name,' Daisy.”

Ah, that was hard to bear! harder than the surgeon's probe which had gone before. It was hard at the same time not to fall on my knees to give thanks; or to break out into a shout of glad praise. I suppose I showed nothing of it, only stood still - and pale by the side of the bed; till Mr. Thorold asked me for something, and I knew that I had been neglecting his dinner. And then I knew that I was neglecting others; and flew across to Preston, who needed my services.