ENTER--NURSE ROSEMARY
Nurse Rosemary Gray had arrived at Gleneesh.
When she and her "box" were deposited on the platform of the little
wayside railway station, she felt she had indeed dropped from the
clouds; leaving her own world, and her own identity, on some
far-distant planet.
A motor waited outside the station, and she had a momentary fear lest
she should receive deferential recognition from the chauffeur. But he
was as solid and stolid as any other portion of the car, and paid no
more attention to her than he did to her baggage. The one was a nurse;
the other, a box, both common nouns, and merely articles to be conveyed
to Gleneesh according to orders. So he looked straight before him,
presenting a sphinx-like profile beneath the peak of his leather cap,
while a slow and solemn porter helped Jane and her luggage into the
motor. When she had rewarded the porter with threepence,
conscientiously endeavouring to live down to her box, the chauffeur
moved foot and hand with the silent precision of a machine, they swung
round into the open, and took the road for the hills.
Up into the fragrant heather and grey rocks; miles of moor and sky and
solitude. More than ever Jane felt as if she had dropped into another
world, and so small an incident as the omission of the usual respectful
salute of a servant, gave her a delightful sense of success and
security in her new role.
She had often heard of Garth's old castle up in the North, an
inheritance from his mother's family, but was hardly prepared for so
much picturesque beauty or such stateliness of archway and entrance. As
they wound up the hillside and the grey turrets came into view, with
pine woods behind and above, she seemed to hear Garth's boyish voice
under the cedar at Overdene, with its ring of buoyant enjoyment,
saying: "I should like you to see Castle Gleneesh. You would enjoy the
view from the terrace; and the pine woods, and the moor." And then he
had laughingly declared his intention of getting up a "best party" of
his own, with the duchess as chaperon; and she had promised to make one
of it. And now he, the owner of all this loveliness, was blind and
helpless; and she was entering the fair portals of Gleneesh, unknown to
him, unrecognised by any, as a nurse-secretary sort of person. Jane had
said at Overdene: "Yes, ask us, and see what happens." And now this was
happening. What would happen next?
Garth's man, Simpson, received her at the door, and again a possible
danger was safely passed. He had entered Garth's service within the
last three years and evidently did not know her by sight.
Jane stood looking round the old hall, in the leisurely way of one
accustomed to arrive for the first time as guest at the country homes
of her friends; noting the quaint, large fireplace, and the shadowy
antlers high up on the walls. Then she became aware that Simpson,
already half-way up the wide oak staircase, was expecting the nurse to
hurry after him. This she did, and was received at the top of the
staircase by old Margery. It did not require the lawn kerchief, the
black satin apron, and the lavender ribbons, for Jane to recognise
Garth's old Scotch nurse, housekeeper, and friend. One glance at the
grave, kindly face, wrinkled and rosy,--a beautiful combination of
perfect health and advancing years,--was enough. The shrewd, keen eyes,
seeing quickly beneath the surface, were unmistakable. She conducted
Jane to her room, talking all the time in a kindly effort to set her at
her ease, and to express a warm welcome with gentle dignity, not
forgetting the cloud of sadness which hung over the house and rendered
her presence necessary. She called her "Nurse Gray" at the conclusion
of every sentence, with an upward inflection and pretty rolling of the
r's, which charmed Jane. She longed to say: "You old dear! How I shall
enjoy being in the house with you!" but remembered in time that a
remark which would have been gratifying condescension on the part of
the Honourable Jane Champion, would be little short of impertinent
familiarity from Nurse Rosemary Gray. So she followed meekly into the
pretty room prepared for her; admired the chintz; answered questions
about her night journey; admitted that she would be very glad of
breakfast, but still more of a bath if convenient.
And now bath and breakfast were both over, and Jane was standing beside
the window in her room, looking down at the wonderful view, and waiting
until the local doctor should arrive and summon her to Garth's room.
She had put on the freshest-looking and most business-like of her
uniforms, a blue print gown, linen collar and cuffs, and a white apron
with shoulder straps and large pockets. She also wore the becoming cap
belonging to one of the institutions to which she had once been for
training. She did not intend wearing this later on, but just this
morning she omitted no detail which could impress Dr. Mackenzie with
her extremely professional appearance. She was painfully conscious that
the severe simplicity of her dress tended rather to add to her height,
notwithstanding her low-heeled ward shoes with their noiseless rubber
soles. She could but hope Deryck would prove right as to the view Dr.
Mackenzie would take.
And then far away in the distance, along the white ribbon of road,
winding up from the valley, she saw a high gig, trotting swiftly; one
man in it, and a small groom seated behind. Her hour had come.
Jane fell upon her knees, at the window, and prayed for strength,
wisdom, and courage. She could realise absolutely nothing. She had
thought so much and so continuously, that all mental vision was out of
focus and had become a blur. Even his dear face had faded and was
hidden from her when she frantically strove to recall it to her mental
view. Only the actual fact remained clear, that in a few short minutes
she would be taken to the room where he lay. She would see the face she
had not seen since they stood together at the chancel step--the face
from which the glad confidence slowly faded, a horror of chill
disillusion taking its place.
"Anoint and cheer our soiled face
With the abundance of Thy grace."
She would see that dear face, and he, sightless, would not see hers,
but would be easily deluded into believing her to be some one else.
The gig had turned the last bend of the road, and passed out of sight
on its way to the front of the house.
Jane rose and stood waiting. Suddenly she remembered two sentences of
her conversation with Deryck. She had said: "Shall I ever have the
courage to carry it through?" And Deryck had answered, earnestly: "If
you value your own eventual happiness and his, you will."
A tap came at her door. Jane walked across the room, and opened it.
Simpson stood on the threshold.
"Dr. Mackenzie is in the library, nurse," he said, "and wishes to see
you there."
"Then, will you kindly take me to the library, Mr. Simpson," said Nurse
Rosemary Gray.