Nurse Elisia - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"You do not think so, Maria," said the nurse gently, as she laid her cool white hand upon the patient's brow. "He is as tender and gentle as a woman, and he takes great interest in your case."
"But, I say, they won't take me into the theatre again, will they? Oh, I say, what a shame to call that horrid place a theatre!"
"No; that is all over now, and you have nothing to do now but get well and go back to the country."
"But it takes so long, and it was so horrid with all those doctors and people, and the chloroform, and stuff, and--"
"Do you not think it would be better," said the nurse gently, "if, instead of looking at what has pa.s.sed in that spirit, you were to try and remember it only with grat.i.tude, and think that a month back you were in a very dangerous state, while now you are rapidly getting well?"
"I don't know," said the woman querulously. "It's very horrid lying here listening to other people complaining and saying how bad they are, and no one near who knows you."
"Come, come," said the nurse gently, "you are hot and tired. I have brought you some flowers and fruit. There!"
She placed a bunch of roses in the patient's hand, and placed a bunch of large grapes before her on the bed.
"Thanky," said the woman, ungraciously, as she sniffed at the flowers.
"But they're not very fresh."
"No," said the nurse, smiling; "but you must recollect that they had to be cut in the country and sent up by rail. Try a few of the grapes."
She held up a little tray, and the patient picked one or two grapes off the bunch with an indifferent air.
"Not much of grapes," she said. "You should see them in the vineries at Hightoft. Much nicer than these poor tasteless things."
"I am sorry they're not better, Maria," said the nurse with a pitying smile. "They were the best I could get. You must remember we are in London."
"Oh, yes; it isn't your fault, nurse. You can't help it."
"Eat a few more."
"No; I don't want 'em. I say, how long will the doctor be? I want to know if I mayn't get up."
"I can tell you that, Maria. Not yet. Try and be patient and trust to us."
"Oh, very well," said the girl petulantly; "but it's horrid lying here so long."
"Do you think you could read a little if I brought you a book?"
"No. It only makes me tired. I hate reading."
"Hus.h.!.+ Here is Mr Elthorne."
As she spoke a tall, keen-looking, youngish man approached the bed. He was handsome and with a strong resemblance to his father; but his high forehead wore a peculiarly thoughtful, intent look, and there were the lines in his face made by constant devotion to some study, and a something in his eyes which suggested that he was thinking deeply of an object which had eluded his mental grasp.
"Good-morning," he said quietly. "How is your patient?"
"A little nervous and restless, sir. Ought she not to have change?"
"Yes," said the young surgeon, taking the patient's hand and watching her intently. "As soon as we can move her, but we must hasten slowly.
You will be glad to get back--home, Maria?"
"Oh, yes, sir, please, sir. I am so tired of being here."
"I suppose so," said the young surgeon. "Naturally;" and he turned to the nurse with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"It is so sad and painful, sir," she said gravely. "Poor thing! I am sure she has tried to be very patient."
"Well, we will hear what Sir Denton says."
Neil Elthorne went across the ward to another bed, and Maria uttered a little laugh.
"What amuses you?"
"Oh, nothing, nurse; I was only thinking. Of course I want to get home again. Anybody would."
"Well, be patient. You are getting better, and you must think of health and strength, and the bright country life, where you will have fresh flowers and better fruit, and be among your friends."
The nurse smiled, and then placed a little bottle of lavender water in her patient's hand.
"To sprinkle about you when you feel faint," she said.
"Thanky," said the woman, in a tone of voice which robbed the word of thankfulness; and the nurse went across to where the young surgeon was busy with another patient.
"And she knows I don't like lavender water," grumbled the woman.
"Always trying to play the fine lady nurse, and showing off, and I don't believe she's a lady at all. A real lady would have brought Padchouly or Odyklone. Think I don't know. Flowers and grapes only cheap rubbish. Can't afford better, I suppose."
She lay back watching the actions of nurse and surgeon the while, and commenting thereon.
"She's an artful one, she is, with all her demure looks and mincing ways. I'm not blind. Only come here because she can wear them play-acting clothes and show off. I haven't patience with her. Lady nurse, indeed. No more a lady than I am. Yes, of course. Look at that. But it won't do, madam. He's engaged, and if I see much more of it I'll tell the old doctor--see if I don't. You're not going to trap our Master Neil, and so I tell you. I should like to set Miss Saxa at her. My word, she'd startle my lady. Well, now; look at that!"
There was not much to see, only that Neil Elthorne had spoken as they were leaving the other patient's bedside, and the nurse had turned to look at him as if half startled, and then turned away and came back seeming slightly disturbed. But by the time she had reached the first patient's bedside her face was perfectly calm again, and an unbiased observer would have said that it was very beautiful in its gentle, resigned expression.
"Let me sprinkle a little of the scent for you," she said.
"Oh, very well. If you like," said Maria ungraciously. Then quickly, and with a flash of suspicion in her eyes, "I say, why do you look at me like that? You don't think I shall die, do you?"
"Oh, no," said the nurse, smiling, "indeed no. You will get better and go."
"But lots of them do die, don't they?"
"Some do, unfortunately; but why should you think of that?"
"You've seen lots die, haven't you?"
"Yes," said the nurse gravely; "in spite of all our efforts; and I have seen many grow strong and well, thanks to the skill of Sir Denton Hayle and Mr Elthorne."
"We always call him Mr Neil at home; master's Mr Elthorne."