NURSE ROSEMARY HAS HER REWARD
"Mr. Dalmain," said Nurse Rosemary, with patient insistence, "I really
do want you to sit down, and give your mind to the tea-table. How can
you remember where each thing is placed, if you keep jumping up, and
moving your chair into different positions? And last time you pounded
the table to attract my attention, which was already anxiously fixed
upon you, you nearly knocked over your own tea, and sent floods of mine
into the saucer. If you cannot behave better, I shall ask Margery for a
pinafore, and sit you up on a high chair!"
Garth stretched his legs in front of him, and his arms over his head;
and lay back in his chair, laughing joyously.
"Then I should have to say: 'Please, Nurse, may I get down?' What a
cheeky little thing you are becoming! And you used to be quite
oppressively polite. I suppose you would answer: 'If you say your grace
nicely, Master Garth, you may.' Do you know the story of 'Tommy, you
should say Your Grace'?"
"You have told it to me twice in the last forty-eight hours," said
Nurse Rosemary, patiently.
"Oh, what a pity! I felt so like telling it now. If you had really been
the sort of sympathetic person Sir Deryck described, you would have
said: 'No; and I should so LOVE to hear it!'"
"No; and I should so LOVE to hear it!" said Nurse Rosemary.
"Too late! That sort of thing, to have any value should be spontaneous.
It need not be true; but it MUST be spontaneous. But, talking of a high
chair,--when you say those chaffy things in a voice like Jane's, and
just as Jane would have said them--oh, my wig!--Do you know, that is
the duchess's only original little swear. All the rest are quotations.
And when she says: 'My wig!' we all try not to look at it. It is
usually slightly awry. The toucan tweaks it. He is so very LOVING, dear
bird!"
"Now hand me the buttered toast," said Nurse Rosemary; "and don't tell
me any more naughty stories about the duchess. No! That is the thin
bread-and-butter. I told you you would lose your bearings. The toast is
in a warm plate on your right. Now let us make believe I am Miss
Champion, and hand it to me, as nicely as you will be handing it to
her, this time to-morrow."
"It is easy to make believe you are Jane, with that voice," said Garth;
"and yet--I don't know. I have never really associated you with her.
One little sentence of old Rob's made all the difference to me. He said
you had fluffy floss-silk sort of hair. No one could ever imagine Jane
with fluffy floss-silk sort of hair! And I believe that one sentence
saved the situation. Otherwise, your voice would have driven me mad,
those first days. As it was, I used to wonder sometimes if I could
possibly bear it. You understand why, now; don't you? And yet, in a
way, it is NOT like hers. Hers is deeper; and she often speaks with a
delicious kind of drawl, and uses heaps of slang; and you are such a
very proper little person; and possess what the primers call 'perfectly
correct diction.' What fun it would be to hear you and Jane talk
together! And yet--I don't know. I should be on thorns, all the time."
"Why?"
"I should be so awfully afraid lest you should not like one another.
You see, YOU have really, in a way, been more to me than any one else
in the world; and SHE--well, she IS my world," said Garth, simply. "And
I should be so afraid lest she should not fully appreciate you; and you
should not quite understand her. She has a sort of way of standing and
looking people up and down, and, women hate it; especially pretty
fluffy little women. They feel she spots all the things that come off."
"Nothing of mine comes off," murmured Nurse Rosemary, "excepting my
patient, when he will not stay on his chair."
"Once," continued Garth, with the gleeful enjoyment in his voice which
always presaged a story in which Jane figured, "there was a fearfully
silly little woman staying at Overdene, when a lot of us were there. We
never could make out why she was included in one of the duchess's 'best
parties,' except that the dear duchess vastly enjoyed taking her off,
and telling stories about her; and we could not appreciate the
cleverness of the impersonation, unless we had seen the original. She
was rather pretty, in a fussy, curling-tongs, wax-doll sort of way; but
she never could let her appearance alone, or allow people to forget it.
Almost every sentence she spoke, drew attention to it. We got very sick
of it, and asked Jane to make her shut up. But Jane said: 'It doesn't
hurt you, boys; and it pleases her. Let her be.' Jane was always extra
nice to people, if she suspected they were asked down in order to make
sport for the duchess afterwards. Jane hated that sort of thing. She
couldn't say much to her aunt; but we had to be very careful how we
egged the duchess on, if Jane was within hearing. Well--one evening,
after tea, a little group of us were waiting around the fire in the
lower hall, to talk to Jane. It was Christmas time. The logs looked so
jolly on the hearth. The red velvet curtains were drawn right across,
covering the terrace door and the windows on either side. Tommy sat on
his perch, in the centre of the group, keeping a keen lookout for
cigarette ends. Outside, the world was deep in snow; and that wonderful
silence reigned; making the talk and laughter within all the more gay
by contrast--you know, that PENETRATING silence; when trees, and
fields, and paths, are covered a foot thick in soft sparkling
whiteness. I always look forward, just as eagerly, each winter to the
first sight--ah, I forgot! ... Fancy never seeing snow again! ...
Never mind. It is something to remember HAVING seen it; and I shall
hear the wonderful snow-silence more clearly than ever. Perhaps before
other people pull up the blinds, I shall be able to say: 'There's been
a fall of snow in the night.' What was I telling you? Yes, I remember.
About little Mrs. Fussy. Well--all the women had gone up to dress for
dinner; excepting Jane, who never needed more than half an hour; and
Fussy, who was being sprightly, in a laboured way; and fancied herself
the centre of attraction which kept us congregated in the hall. As a
matter of fact, we were waiting to tell Jane some private news we had
just heard about a young chap in the guards, who was in fearful hot
water for ragging. His colonel was an old friend of Jane's, and we
thought she could put in a word, and improve matters for Billy. So Mrs.
Fussy was very much de trop, and didn't know it. Jane was sitting with
her back to all of us, her feet on the fender, and her skirt turned up
over her knees. Oh, there was another one, underneath; a handsome silk
thing, with rows of little frills,--which you would think should have
gone on outside. But Jane's best things are never paraded; always
hidden. I don't mean clothes, now; but her splendid self. Well--little
Fussy was 'chatting'--she never talked--about herself and her
conquests; quite unconscious that we all wished her at Jericho. Jane
went on reading the evening paper; but she felt the atmosphere growing
restive. Presently--ah, but I must not tell you the rest. I have just
remembered. Jane made us promise never to repeat it. She thought it
detrimental to the other woman. But we just had time for our confab;
and Jane caught the evening post with the letter which got Billy off
scot-free; and yet came down punctually to dinner, better dressed than
any of them. We felt it rather hard luck to have to promise; because we
had each counted on being the first to tell the story to the duchess.
But, you know, you always have to do as Jane says."
"Why?"
"Oh, I don't know! I can't explain why. If you knew her, you would not
need to ask. Cake, Miss Gray?"
"Thank you. Right, this time."
"There! That is exactly as Jane would have said: 'Right, this time.' Is
it not strange that after having for weeks thought your voice so like
hers, to-morrow I shall be thinking her voice so like yours?"
"Oh, no, you will not," said Nurse Rosemary. "When she is with you, you
will have no thoughts for other people."
"Indeed, but I shall!" cried Garth. "And, dear little Rosemary, I shall
miss you, horribly. No one--not even she--can take your place. And, do
you know," he leaned forward, and a troubled look clouded the gladness
of his face, "I am beginning to feel anxious about it. She has not seen
me since the accident. I am afraid it will give her a shock. Do you
think she will find me much changed?"
Jane looked at the sightless face turned so anxiously toward her. She
remembered that morning in his room, when he thought himself alone with
Dr. Rob; and, leaving the shelter of the wall, sat up to speak, and she
saw his face for the first time. She remembered turning to the
fireplace, so that Dr. Rob should not see the tears raining down her
cheeks. She looked again at Garth--now growing conscious, for the first
time, of his disfigurement; and then, only for her sake--and an almost
overwhelming tenderness gripped her heart. She glanced at the clock.
She could not hold out much longer.
"Is it very bad?" said Garth; and his voice shook.
"I cannot answer for another woman," replied Nurse Rosemary; "but I
should think your face, just as it is, will always be her joy."
Garth flushed; pleased and relieved, but slightly surprised. There was
a quality in Nurse Rosemary's voice, for which he could not altogether
account.
"But then, she will not be accustomed to my blind ways," he continued.
"I am afraid I shall seem so helpless and so blundering. She has not
been in Sightless Land, as you and I have been. She does not know all
our plans of cords, and notches, and things. Ah, little Rosemary!
Promise not to leave me to-morrow. I want Her--only God, knows how I
want her; but I begin to be half afraid. It will be so wonderful, for
the great essentials; but, for the little every-day happenings, which
are so magnified by the darkness, oh, my kind unseen guide, how I shall
need you. At first, I thought it lucky you had settled to go, just when
she is coming; but now, just because she is coming, I cannot let you
go. Having her will be wonderful beyond words; but it will not be the
same as having you."
Nurse Rosemary was receiving her reward, and she appeared to find it
rather overwhelming.
As soon as she could speak, she said, gently: "Don't excite yourself
over it, Mr. Dalmain. Believe me, when you have been with her for five
minutes, you will find it just the same as having me. And how do you
know she has not also been in Sightless Land? A nurse would do that
sort of thing, because she was very keen on her profession, and on
making a success of her case. The woman who loves you would do it for
love of you."
"It would be like her," said Garth; and leaned back, a look of deep
contentment gathering on his face. "Oh, Jane! Jane! She is coming! She
is coming!"
Nurse Rosemary looked at the clock.
"Yes; she is coming," she said; and though her voice was steady, her
hands trembled. "And, as it is our last evening together under quite
the same circumstances as during all these weeks, will you agree to a
plan of mine? I must go upstairs now, and do some packing, and make a
few arrangements. But will you dress early? I will do the same; and if
you could be down in the library by half-past six, we might have some
music before dinner."
"Why certainly," said Garth. "It makes no difference to me at what time
I dress; and I am always ready for music. But, I say: I wish you were
not packing, Miss Gray."
"I am not exactly packing up," replied Nurse Rosemary. "I am packing
things away."
"It is all the same, if it means leaving. But you have promised not to
go until she comes?"
"I will not go--until she comes."
"And you will tell her all the things she ought to know?"
"She shall know all I know, which could add to your comfort."
"And you will not leave me, until I am really--well, getting on all
right?"
"I will never leave you, while you need me," said Nurse Rosemary. And
again Garth detected that peculiar quality in her voice. He rose, and
came towards where he heard her to be standing.
"Do you know, you are no end of a brick," he said, with emotion. Then
he held out both hands towards her. "Put your hands in mine just for
once, little Rosemary. I want to try to thank you."
There was a moment of hesitation. Two strong capable hands--strong and
capable, though, just then, they trembled--nearly went home to his; but
were withdrawn just in time. Jane's hour was not yet. This was Nurse
Rosemary's moment of triumph and success. It should not be taken from
her.
"This evening," she said, softly, "after the music, we will--shake
hands. Now be careful, sir. You are stranded. Wait. Here is the
garden-cord, just to your left. Take a little air on the terrace; and
sing again the lovely song I heard under my window this morning. And
now that you know what it is that is 'going to happen,' this exquisite
May-Day evening will fill you with tender expectation. Good-bye,
sir--for an hour."
"What has come to little Rosemary?" mused Garth, as he felt for his
cane, in its corner by the window. "We could not have gone on
indefinitely quite as we have been, since she came in from the
post-office."
He walked on; a troubled look clouding his face: Suddenly it lifted,
and he stood still, and laughed. "Duffer!" he said. "Oh, what a
conceited duffer! She is thinking of her 'young man.' She is going to
him to-morrow; and her mind is full of him; just as mine is full of
Jane. Dear, good, clever, little Rosemary! I hope he is worthy of her.
No; that he cannot be. I hope he knows he is NOT worthy of her. That is
more to the point. I hope he will receive her as she expects. Somehow,
I hate letting her go to him. Oh, hang the fellow!--as Tommy would say."