Authors: Peggy Gaddis
Chapter Four
Three days later,
she had settled herself in the small but completely charming room assigned to her in the staff quarters on the second floor. All the guests, of course, were in rooms on the first floor, where there were no stairs to climb, no unexpected steps to be navigated, no smallest thing that could disturb them in any way.
Hilary had met the staff and had been accepted wholeheartedly. She had met some of the patients, and they had seemed as delighted with her as the staff had been.
“
And now, just to prove that everything isn
’
t strawberries and cream and this a modern Shangri-La, I
’
ll introduce you to the Duchess,
”
said Mrs. Middleton on her fourth morning, as they finished breakfast and walked back along the corridor that ran from east to west in the long, handsome building.
Their feet sank deeply into the wall-to-wall carpeting, and Mrs. Middleton explained,
“
We wouldn
’
t dare have the tiled floors here that are customary in hospitals. Too much danger of breaking brittle old bones in a fall. The carpet is vacuumed twice daily, and kept as germ-free as possible. Anyway, this is not a hospital, you know, or even a nursing home; it
’
s what it claims to be—a retirement home for senior citizens where the word
‘
aged
’
is one that may cause you to get your mouth washed out with soap and water.
”
“
I
’
ll remember,
”
Hilary promised, laughing.
Mrs. Middleton paused in front of a door, winked at Hilary and rapped lightly.
“
Come in. Don
’
t stand there banging on the door, for pity
’
s sake,
”
snarled an angry, thin feminine voice from the other side of the door.
Mrs. Middleton turned the knob and pushed open the door, her face wreathed with smiles, and her voice bright and cheery as she caroled,
“
Good morning, Mrs. Keenan.
”
The old woman who sat propped up in bed, thin and angry-looking, wearing an old-fashioned, long-sleeved nightgown and a night-cap of lace and silk, glared at her.
“
Good morning? What
’
s good about it? Rain and sleet and wind—I didn
’
t sleep a wink last night with all that howling gale,
”
she snapped. And then her eyes went past Mrs. Middleton to Hilary, who was still in the doorway, and a lively curiosity touched the cold gray eyes, though her voice was still sharp.
“
Well, don
’
t just stand there holding the door open and making a devil of a draft. Either come in and close the door, or go out and shut it.
”
Mrs. Middleton shot Hilary an anxious glance, but Hilary only smiled and came inside the luxuriously appointed room, which seemed to her unbearably hot and stuffy.
“
Mrs. Keenan, this is our new nurse, Hilary Westbrook,
”
said Mrs. Middleton pleasantly.
“
We hope we can persuade her to stay with us.
”
Mrs. Keenan
’
s sharp old eyes swept Hilary from the top of the pert little cap that crowned the shining waves of her red-brown hair to the tips of her white shoes, missing nothing of the slender young body in its crisply immaculate white starched uniform.
“
Humph!
”
she snapped.
“
So you
’
re the new girl.
”
“
I
’
m the new nurse, Mrs. Keenan,
”
said Hilary with gentle emphasis.
“
Oh, you are, are you?
”
snapped Mrs. Keenan, ungracious and quite aware of the emphasis.
“
Well, you
’
d better make up your mind that you
’
ll have to get along with me if you want to stay here. And I
’
m not easy to get along with, I warn you.
”
“
No,
”
said Hilary gently,
“
I don
’
t imagine you are.
”
For a moment the old woman glared at her furiously, and then she turned back to Mrs. Middleton.
“
My breakfast this morning wasn
’
t fit to eat,
”
she snarled.
“
I
’
m so sorry. What was wrong?
”
asked Mrs. Middleton.
“
Everything! The coffee was dishwater, and cold besides; and the eggs were hard and fried, not poached as I ordered them; and there was no meat—I ordered sausage, but that fool of a maid said there wasn
’
t any, and I know that
’
s a lie
...
”
“
I
’
m sorry about the coffee and the eggs,
”
said Mrs. Middleton gently,
“
but you know you aren
’
t supposed to have meat, especially sausage.
”
“
Why not? I certainly pay enough here to have everything
I order,
”
the old woman complained furiously.
“
And I want
sausage—and poached eggs, not fried
eggs
—and I want a decent cup of coffee—
”
“
Now, now, now,
”
Mrs. Middleton soothed her. Rather, she tried to, but Mrs. Keenan was working herself up into a rage and struck angrily at the hands that would have helped her back on her pillows.
“
Keep your hands off me, woman!
”
she cried harshly.
“
I will
not
be mauled about! If I can
’
t have what I want to eat here, I can surely have it somewhere else. I won
’
t stay unless you feed me properly.
”
“
Shall I have one of the maids pack for you?
”
suggested Mrs. Middleton, and now the gentleness in her voice had a perceptible edge to it.
The old woman glared at her furiously.
“
You
’
re a guest here, Mrs. Keenan, not a prisoner,
”
Mrs. Middleton reminded her firmly.
“
You
’
re perfectly free to go any time you like.
”
“
Oh, I am, am I? Well, we
’
ll just see about that! Where
’
s Drew Ramsey? I want to see him now—this minute. Get him here—and don
’
t lallygag! Get out, both of you!
”
screamed the old woman, and fell back on her pillows, exhausted.
“
Now, you see? You
’
ve worked yourself up into a tantrum, and you know what that means.
”
Mrs. Middleton was once more the calmly professional nurse trained to cope with anything a patient might do.
“
You must have a nice nap, and as soon as Mr. Ramsey comes in I
’
ll send him to you.
”
“
I
told
you I won
’
t be mauled about by you.
”
The old woman
’
s voice was still furious but perceptibly weaker, as she thrust aside Mrs. Middleton
’
s hands and pulled herself away.
“
You know what this will mean, Mrs. Keenan?
”
said Mrs. Middleton, and now her voice had the ring of authority Hilary had been expecting.
“
You know how you hate sedatives.
”
“
I won
’
t have one!
”
“
You will unless you behave yourself.
”
And suddenly, to Hilary
’
s shocked pity, tears ran down the old woman
’
s face and she seemed to collapse.
“
You
’
re trying to starve me to death,
”
she wailed.
“
But you won
’
t succeed. My nephew will be here today, and he
’
ll bring me food, and I
’
ll tell him how you are treating me, and he
’
ll take me away.
”
“
How would you like a nice big foamy eggnog?
”
Mrs. Middleton coaxed.
The old woman
’
s eyes lighted greedily.
“
With brandy in it?
”
she asked eagerly.
“
Of course, if that
’
s the way you want it.
”
“
What other way is there to make a decent eggnog? Yes, I
’
d like that,
”
the old woman all but purred.
“
Then I
’
ll make it and send it right in,
”
Mrs. Middleton promised.
“
And I
’
ll see that you have a lovely lunch; just what you want to order. You be thinking about it and planning it, while I get the eggnog.
”
“
Mind you, I
’
m starving, so hurry the eggnog,
”
ordered the old woman, reviving appreciably at the prospect.
“
Right away,
”
Mrs. Middleton promised, and guided Hilary out of the room.
The door safely closed behind them, Mrs. Middleton motioned to a ward maid, ordered the eggnog and grinned wryly at Hilary.
“
That
’
s the worst one in the place, so I thought you should meet her first, because after the Duchess, anything would be pleasant,
”
she promised.
“
Why do you call her the Duchess?
”
“
She
’
s by all odds the richest guest in the T. & C., and the first one, and she never lets anybody forget it,
”
answered Mrs. Middleton.
“
She
’
s so sure that people are after her money that she makes herself as unpleasant as she can, I suppose on the theory that they might as well work for it!
”
“
Poor soul!
”
said Hilary softly.
Mrs. Middleton looked at her swiftly.
“
She doesn
’
t make you want to pack your bags and get the blazes out of here as fast as your two feet can take you?
”
she asked uneasily.
Hilary laughed.
“
Far from it! She
’
s a challenge. And I never run away from challenges,
”
she answered.
“
Oh, I admit she probably gives everybody a fit, but—did you notice her eyes, Middy?
”
“
Filled to the brim and running over with venom,
”
said Mrs. Middleton.
“
That, of course,
”
Hilary admitted reluctantly.
“
But behind all that she
’
s terrified and bitterly lonely.
”
Mrs. Middleton eyed Hilary curiously.
“
Terrified? Of what? She
’
s lonely because she makes herself so unpleasant that people can
’
t abide being with her, but terrified? That I don
’
t get.
”
“
Well, I don
’
t either, not yet, but the fear is there,
”
Hilary
insisted.
“
It
’
s as though she were in a trap and couldn
’
t see
any way out. I probably sound like a fool, but somehow I felt very sorry for her.
”
Mrs. Middleton drew a deep breath and patted Hilary
’
s arm lightly.
“
You
’
ll do, my dear. I should have known Ellen
’
s daughter would,
”
she said contentedly.
“
Now all we have to do is try to keep you here. Come along and meet some of the others
—
the pleasant ones!
”