HIS LORDSHIP'S VISITOR.
The two doctors, summoned by telephone from Torquay, stood beside Lord
Bracondale's bed, and after careful examination and long consultation,
grew very grave.
His lordship had been carried unconscious to the park and upstairs into
his own tastefully-furnished room, where he still remained motionless
and senseless, though two hours had now passed.
In addition to severe contusions, his shoulder was badly dislocated, and
it was also feared that he had suffered severe internal injury through
being thrown against the steering-pillar of the car. The examination had
occupied a long time, and the greatest consternation had been caused in
the big household, the servants going about pale and scared.
Dr. Wright-Gilson, the elder of the two medical practitioners, a rather
bent, grey-bearded man, addressing his colleague, said, after a long
discussion:
"I really think that Morrison should see him. If I telephoned to him at
Cavendish Square he could be down here by ten o'clock to-morrow. We
could then have a consultation, and decide whether to operate or not."
To this the younger man agreed; therefore Wright-Gilson went into the
library with Jenner, the stout, white-headed old butler, and, using the
private telephone to Downing Street, which stood upon the big, littered
writing-table, he was quickly put on to the house of Sir Evered
Morrison, the great surgeon.
The specialist, who was asleep, answered the telephone at his bedside,
and, hearing of the accident, promised he would catch the next train
from Paddington. Then he rose, dressed hurriedly, and left by the
newspaper-train.
At eleven o'clock the next morning--by which hour the world knew of his
lordship's accident--the great specialist had made his examination and
was seated in the library with the two Torquay doctors.
"No," said Sir Evered, a tall, thin, clean-shaven man, who was a
personal friend of Lord Bracondale's. "In my opinion an operation is not
advisable. The case is a serious one, and full of grave danger. But I do
not think we need despair. I'll remain here, and by this evening I shall
hope to see consciousness restored." Then he added: "By the way, are
there any good nurses in Torquay?"
"The Convent of Saint Agnes is quite close. They are a Nursing Order, as
you know," replied Dr. Wright-Gilson.
"Yes, and usually most excellent. We had better send for the Mother
Superior and get her to give us two trustworthy nurses. Having myself
had experience of them, I have always found them most painstaking, and
in every way excellent."
"That is also my own experience, Sir Evered. Several of my patients have
employed them with great success."
"Very well; we will have them." And Jenner was at once called and sent
with a note from the great surgeon to the Mother Superior.
Twenty minutes later the grave-faced directress, who wore her black
habit and wide, white collar, and spoke with a very pronounced French
accent, arrived, accompanied by Jean and Sister Gertrude, whom she
introduced to the three medical men standing in the library.
And very soon afterwards Jean found herself installed in the big,
handsome bedroom beside the unconscious Cabinet Minister.
The white, inanimate face lay upon the pillow with the pallor of death
upon it, the sheet edged with broad lace having been turned down and
carefully arranged by the head housemaid.
Many and precise were the instructions which Sister Gertrude and Jean
received from the great surgeon, who first explained to them the
injuries from which his distinguished patient was suffering, and the
nature of the treatment he intended to adopt.
The Honourable John Charlton, his lordship's private secretary, arrived
post-haste from London at midday, and took over many of the confidential
papers and other documents which were lying about upon the library
table.
He was anxious for the Earl to recover consciousness in order to obtain
instructions concerning the attitude to be adopted towards Austria,
regarding whom a ticklish point of policy had on the previous evening
arisen. The political horizon of Europe changes from hour to hour.
Our Ambassador in Vienna had wired in cipher urgently requesting a
response, and this only the Foreign Minister himself could give.
But the doctors would not allow him to be disturbed.
A warm, anxious day went by, and Jean found herself amid surroundings so
luxurious and artistic that she gazed about her open-mouthed in wonder.
As a nurse she soon showed her proficiency and her business-like
methods--a manner which at once impressed Sir Evered.
But, alas! The Earl of Bracondale still remained unconscious. His pulse
was feeble, his heart was just beating; the spark of life was still
aglow.
From all quarters of the world, from every one of the Chancelleries of
Europe, telegrams of regret arrived. Kings, statesmen, politicians of
all grades, and all parties, lawyers, diplomats; in fact, all classes,
sent messages, and all day long boys kept continually cycling up the
long drive through the park bearing sheaves of orange-coloured
envelopes, which were opened one after the other by the Honourable John
Charlton.
Not before the following afternoon did consciousness return to the
injured man, and then Jean's real work commenced.
His eyes, when they first opened, met her calm, anxious gaze.
He looked at her in astonishment, and then glanced at the other faces of
the doctors around.
Sir Evered spoke as he bent over him.
"You know me--eh? Come, you're a lot better now, my dear fellow. Just
drink this," and he took a glass from Jean's hand.
The prostrate man swallowed the liquid with an effort. Then, staring
about him with an air of astonishment, he said:
"Why--it's you, Evered. You!"
"Yes; I'm here looking after you, and with good nursing you'll soon be
quite right again."
His lordship drew a long breath, and for a few moments remained silent.
Then he asked, in a low, weak whisper:
"What's happened?"
"Oh, nothing very much. Don't bother about it," was the great
specialist's reply. "You were thrown out of your car, that's all. No
bones broken."
"Ah! yes," he replied, slowly raising a hand to his brow. "Ah! yes--now
I remember. That wagon--right across the road--and no light upon it!
Yes--I--I remember!"
"Don't bother. That's enough now. Just go to sleep again, my dear
fellow," said Sir Evered, soothingly, placing his hand upon his
patient's brow. "Don't try and think. Just rest for the present."
And thus advised, his lordship closed his eyes wearily, and was soon
asleep.
"Excellent," declared Sir Evered, much gratified when outside the room
with the others, leaving Jean alone with the sleeper. "He'll recover--no
doubt he will."
And five minutes later he was in the library, speaking over the
telephone to the Prime Minister at Downing Street, while that same
evening the papers gave the welcome news to the world that there was
every hope of the Foreign Minister's restoration to health.
The three medical men had strapped up the injured shoulder and applied
various remedies, therefore the patient that night was in no pain,
though Sister Gertrude took Jean's place at ten o'clock and sat by his
bedside all night, receiving hourly visits from the doctors.
Bracondale Park was a house of breathless anxiety through the days which
followed. Sir Evered, though his presence was required hourly in
London--as is the presence of such a great surgeon--remained at the
bedside of his friend. They had been at Cambridge together, and ever
since their undergraduate days had been intimate chums.
His lordship's illness proved of longer duration than was at first
anticipated. Sir Evered remained at Bracondale a whole week, and then,
finding that his patient was progressing favourably, returned to London,
leaving the case in the hands of Dr. Wright-Gilson and Dr. Noel Tanner,
while Sister Gertrude and Jean did the nursing.
Life at Bracondale Jean found extremely pleasant. The great house, with
its luxuriously-furnished rooms, its fine picture-gallery, where, often,
in her hours of recreation, she wandered; the big winter-garden with
palms and exotic flowers, the conservatories, the huge ballroom--wherein
long ago the minuet had been danced by high-born dames in wigs and
patches--the fine suites of rooms with gilded cornices--all were, to
her, full of interest.
The great house was built by the second Earl of Bracondale, who was the
famous Chancellor of the Exchequer in the reign of Charles I., and ever
since the Bracondales had borne their part in the government of England.
The room allotted to Jean was a visitor's room--a large, old-fashioned
sitting-room, with a bed in one corner screened off; a room the long,
leaded windows of which afforded beautiful views across the extensive,
well-wooded park to the blue sea beyond. It was a place with a quiet,
old-world atmosphere--a room that had never been changed for a century
past. The old chintzes were of the days of our grandmothers, while the
Chippendale chairs and tables would have fetched hundreds of pounds if
put up at Christie's.
The elderly housekeeper, in her black silk cap, did all she could to
make her comfortable, and treated her with the greatest consideration
and respect--more so, perhaps, than she did Sister Gertrude, who, of
course, wore the habit of the Order, while Jean still wore her French
nurse's uniform.
Old Jenner, on the other hand, looked upon "them dressed-up Sisters o'
Mercy," as he termed them in the servants' hall, as interlopers, and was
often sarcastic at their expense. As an old servant of the family, he
felt jealous that they should wait upon his master while his presence
was not permitted in the sick-room.
All his life he had been used to wait upon "his young lordship," and he
was annoyed that he was not allowed to do so at that critical hour.
As soon as the injured man was sufficiently well to talk and to
recognise that he was being tended by sisters from the neighbouring
convent, he treated both with the greatest consideration. A car was
placed at their disposal every afternoon so that they might take an
airing, while the whole house was thrown open to them to wander where
they liked.
The library, however, was Jean's favourite room. It was a big, sombre,
restful place, with high windows of stained glass, a great carved
overmantel, and electric lights set in the ancient oaken ceiling. Lined
from ceiling to floor with books, and with several tables set about the
rich Turkey carpet, it was a cosy, restful place, where one could lounge
in a big arm-chair and dream.
Jean's duties in the sick-room were never irksome. The pair took it in
turns to sit with the patient every other night, and it was only then
that the hours in the green-shaded night-light seemed never ending. By
day she found Bracondale always interesting and frequently amusing.
After he had been in bed a fortnight the doctors allowed him to see
visitors, and several distinguished men called and were admitted by
Jean. These included the Prime Minister, politicians, and magnates of
commerce. And there were some mysterious visitors also, including a Mr.
Darnborough, who called one afternoon, being shown up by Jenner.
Jean, in surprise, found the butler and the visitor outside the door,
whereupon Jenner explained:
"This is Mr. Darnborough, nurse, a very great friend of his lordship. He
must see him alone, as they have confidential business to transact."
"Thank you, Jenner," replied Jean, rather stiffly. "If his lordship
wishes to see Mr. Darnborough alone he will probably tell me so."
And, surveying the visitor with some suspicion, she ushered him to the
sick man's side.
"Ah! my dear Darnborough!" cried his lordship, gaily, as soon as he
recognised him. "I'm very glad to see you. I heard that you were in
Cairo a week ago. Well, how are things in Egypt?"
"Just as full of trouble as ever," was the reply; "but----" and he
glanced inquiringly at Jean.
"Oh, yes, I forgot," exclaimed the Earl. "Nurse Jean, might I ask the
favour that you leave Mr. Darnborough to talk with me alone for half an
hour? I shall be all right--and my medicine is not due until five
o'clock."
Jean smiled at the pair.
"Certainly; I will come back when it is time for your lordship to have
the next dose," she answered.
And with that she passed noiselessly out of the room, the Earl's dark
eyes following her.
The door having closed, the pair were left alone. Then the Earl lay
listening attentively to the all-important secret report which
Darnborough had travelled down there to make.