Nurse Hilary (9 page)

“
I must hurry,
”
she reported happily.
“
I
’
m meeting Mr. Hodding in the lounge for cocktails.
”

“
Cocktails?
”
Hilary repeated, astonished.

Mrs. Barton laughed a small, fluting laugh.

“
Oh, Mr. Hodding said it was really a health drink, made of tomato juice and clam juice and that it was just an appetizer before dinner, but that it made it sound gayer and more fun to speak of
‘
the cocktail hour in the lounge.
’
He is amusing, isn
’
t he?
”

She rustled happily away, taffeta petticoats beneath the black satin making a gay, young sound.

Hilary watched her, and Dr. Marsden watched Hilary, a warm twinkle in his eyes.

“
And last night she was too shy, too terrified of strangers, even to go in to dinner,
”
he reminded her.
“
Do you still feel that you aren
’
t doing something useful, Miss Westbrook?
”

“
No, I suppose not,
”
said Hilary slowly.
“
I suppose it
’
s just as important to minister to tired old minds as to tired old bodies, when you come right down to it. Only I never thought of it as a nursing job; it seemed to me more in the
line of a minister, or a church group.
”

“
That
’
s not ministering to minds, Miss Westbrook; that
’
s ministering to souls, which never grow old! And you
’
re quite right that that is a religious matter, for churches and church groups. Our job, yours and mine, is to keep the mind as well as the body flexible and alert. I
’
d say that was a very important job, wouldn
’
t you?
”
asked Dr. Marsden.

Hilary looked up at him, a twinkle in her eyes.

“
Are you trying to convince me—or yourself, Doctor?
”
she asked with a faint but inoffensive trace of impudence.

Dr. Marsden laughed.

“
Both of us, I suppose,
”
he agreed.
“
Well, I
’
d better get going.
”

“
You
’
re not having dinner here?
”
asked Hilary.

“
I want to run out and have another look at Thad Carter, and then I
’
m reading a paper on my pet subject—gerontology, what else?—at a medical meeting. I
’
ll see you tomorrow, Miss Westbrook—and thanks again.
”

He smiled at her, nodded and hurried out across the lobby. Hilary went on to her own room to change for dinner.

She was just stepping into a dark green shantung frock when there was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Middleton poked a head in.

“
Anybody home?
”
she asked gaily, and added,
“
What
a
sweet frock! I hate you.
”

Startled, Hilary turned and studied her.

Mrs. Middleton
’
s eyes were sweeping over Hilary
’
s slender yet gracefully rounded figure, and she put her hands on her own ample hips in the crisply starched uniform, and shook her white-capped head.

“
What it is to be young and slender,
”
she mourned.
“
You make me feel like a sack of wet wash that has just broken its moorings—or shall I be graceful about it and say the back of a busted truck?
”

“
You!
”
Hilary scolded her lightly.
“
You
’
re beautiful and you know it.
”

Mrs. Middleton pretended to preen herself, a hand on her hip, the other hand touching the masses of her really beautiful hair.

“
Oh, yes, I know; a frightful bore having all the men falling madly in love with me and threatening to throw themselves off a cliff—
”
She broke off with a little shrug,
‘
and grinned impishly.
“
I just barged in to tell you that since you
’
ve failed to put yourself down on the beauty shop records for an appointment, I took the liberty of telling them you
’
d
like to have that fabulous hair of yours washed and set at three each Thursday afternoon. It was about the only available time. Our gals spend a lot of time having themselves made beautiful; us hired help have to scramble for what time we can get.
”

“
But I could run into town on my day off.
”

“
Why should you? You are entitled to free laundry and free beauty care, so why not enjoy it?
”
Mrs. Middleton protested.
“
After all, this is the T. & C., you know; nothing
’
s too good for our paying guests and their paid attendants.
”

Hilary fastened the string of amber beads about her throat, watching Mrs. Middleton from the mirror.

“
There
’
s something here that Mr. Ramsey considers much too good for the common herd,
”
she said grimly.

Mrs. Middleton looked at her sharply.

“
Now see here, Hilary, if you
’
re going to start complaining about the empty wards—
”
She sighed, and added,
“
I should have known this would happen once you got acquainted with Dr. Marsden. It
’
s the favorite bee in his bonnet.
”

“
You
’
re a nurse, Middy—
”

“
I
’
m also a
n
employee of the T. & C., and Mr. Ramsey is the Administrator,
and
the boss! He will not have the wards occupied by charity patients, and his is the voice of final authority. So don
’
t start trying to change his mind. You
’
ll just get yourself all bruised and sore, and the wards will still be empty.
”

“
It seems almost a crime—
”
Hilary protested.

“
I suppose so,
”
Mrs. Middleton agreed, and headed toward the door.
“
But take my word for it; the wards will stay empty as long as Mr. Ramsey has anything to say about it. And I can
’
t visualize anything that would stop his having plenty to say about it. So that
’
s that! I
’
ve got to go on duty
—
see you later.
”

The door closed behind her broad back, and Hilary stood for a long moment, staring with unseeing eyes at the girl in the mirror, who looked back at her gravely, brown eyes troubled, lovely oval face drooping sadly.

“
There
is
a way,
”
she told that girl at last.
“
There
’
s got to be a way. And Dr. Marsden and I are going to find it.
”

Chapter Ten

March had come
in howling and roaring like the traditional lion.

But at last, almost overnight it seemed, the lion was gone with his roaring and a small, fluffy white lamb gamboled in; gray skies were blue; clouds were white sails towed and tugged by mild sportive winds that were a caress rather than a torture.

Hilary was growing more interested in Dr. Marsden
’
s theories about gerontology. Because Mrs. Barton had arrived at about the same time she had, and because she had been very concerned with Mrs. Barton
’
s agonizing shyness, her homesickness, Hilary was especially interested in Mrs. Barton. And she saw with delight that Mrs. Barton was obviously having the time of her life. She was always on time for meals; her appetite was surprisingly good; her interest in those about her was cheerful and eager. She arrived in the solarium each morning with her knitting bag, out of which she brought mazes of really exquisite crochet.

“
It
’
s for my daughter, Jill,
”
she explained eagerly to Hilary one morning, spreading over her knee a small circle of lacy looking stuff that Hilary could scarcely realize was crochet, so fine was the thread, so delicate the pattern.
“
It
’
s a luncheon set. There will be a centre cloth, and then place mats for
a
dozen plates. Do you think she
’
ll like it?
”

“
Like it? Why, it
’
s perfectly beautiful,
”
said Hilary.
“
I can
’
t imagine anyone not liking it. It looks like fine lace. It would cost a fortune if you tried to buy anything like that.
”

Mrs. Barton looked up at her, startled.

“
You mean I might be able to sell it?
”
she asked.

Obviously, the thought had never occurred to her before.

“
I should think you might, perhaps in a woman
’
s exchange, or some place like that. You couldn
’
t compete with the machine-made things the big department stores sell, of course. But that
’
s really a lovely thing,
”
Hilary assured her quite sincerely.

They were in a corner of the lounge, for the solarium was
being tidied for the day, and for the moment there was no one else in hearing distance.

Mrs. Barton smoothed the delicate bit of handiwork with a caressing hand and looked up at Hilary, her blue eyes touched with a wistful hope.

“
If I could just make a bit of money, to help out on my bill here,
”
she murmured almost as though she spoke her thoughts aloud.
“
I know Jill and Juddy want me to have the best and they
’
d beggar themselves to get it for me. But I know they can
’
t really afford to keep me here. Oh, if only I could help just a little.
”

“
They want you to be happy, Mrs. Barton, and not to worry, and that
’
s what you must do,
”
Hilary assured her firmly.

“
But you
do
think I might be able to sell some of my work? I
’
ve always loved crocheting and I
’
ve always given it away. But if I could sell some
...
”
Her voice was scarcely more than a breath. Before Hilary could answer Mr. Hodding came across the big room, smiling warmly at Mrs. Barton, whose color rose a little as she gave him back his smile.

“
Good morning, Miss Lily-Mae,
”
he greeted her.
“
I have an article here I think you
’
d enjoy. I thought perhaps I might read it aloud to you while you do your crocheting.
”

“
That would be lovely, Mr. Hodding,
”
said Mrs. Barton happily.
“
You read aloud so beautifully.
”

Mr. Hodding preened himself a little at her praise, and Hilary took herself off, back to other duties, smiling at the way these two old people, each of them shy and lonely, had found each other.

As she came into the lobby, she saw Mr. Ramsey just entering and on a sudden im
p
u
l
se, she crossed to him, accepting his smiling, friendly greeting and saying,
“
May I talk to you, Mr. Ramsey? I
’
ve been wanting to, but this is the first chance
—
you
’
re always so busy.
”

“
Of course, of course, Miss Westbrook.
”
Drew was being the very genial, charming man as he opened his office door and ushered her inside.
“
I
’
m never too busy to talk to members of the staff. I hope nothing is wrong.
”

“
I
’
m afraid it is, Mr. Ramsey.
”

“
Oh, come now, Miss Westbrook, this isn
’
t a prelude to offering your resignation? We
’
re delighted with you, all the guests are fond of you, you fit perfectly into our little world here.
”

“
That
’
s very kind of you, Mr. Ramsey,
”
Hilary answered.
“
No, I have no intention of resigning. I
’
ve become quite interested in gerontology, and Dr. Marsden is a fascinating instructor in the subject.
”

“
We
’
re very proud of Dr. Marsden at the T. & C., Miss Westbrook.
”
Drew beamed at her.
“
I hardly see how we
’
d function without him. I sincerely hope we won
’
t have to.
”

“
I
’
m sure you do, Mr. Ramsey.
”

“
And so—what
’
s your problem, Miss Westbrook?
”
Drew glanced at the sheaf of mail which his secretary had placed on his desk, as an indication that a mere nurse must not take up too much of his time.

“
It
’
s about those empty wards, Mr. Ramsey—
”
she began.

Instantly the pleasant smile left Drew
’
s face and his eyes chilled.

“
So Marsden has sent you to try to persuade me to change my mind—
”
he began sharply.

Color bloomed in Hilary
’
s face.

“
Dr. Marsden knows nothing about my trying to see you,
”
she shot back at him.
“
I came to you on my own initiative, because it seems to me almost criminal that those wards should be standing empty when there are so many people desperately in need of hospital care—
”

“
Anyone in need of hospital care who can afford to pay our rates for beds in the ward are perfectly welcome to enter—
”
he began.

“
I don
’
t mean people who have a lot of money—
”

“
Of course not,
”
he sneered, and she wondered why she had ever thought him charming.
“
You mean we should turn the T. & C., into a charity place. And have you thought what that would mean to our paying guests and their families? Can you imagine, for instance, Mrs. Keenan paying five hundred a month, plus extras, to share a place that has charity wards?
”

“
It
’
s not a crime for the poor to be ill, you know, Mr. Ramsey—
”

“
And there is adequate provision made for them by the various charity hospitals, city, state, county—
”

“
There isn
’
t, Mr. Ramsey; there
’
s not room even for some of Dr. Marsden
’
s most critically ill patients in the county hospital, and they aren
’
t eligible for care at Grady Memorial, because they
’
re not residents of the counties sponsoring Grady.
”

“
And I
’
m supposed to ruin a two or three million dollar operation, that is just beginning to get its financial head above water, by throwing the doors open to all the rag tag and
bobtail in the county that want to cadge free hospitalization?
”
he snarled at her, and stood up, strode to the door and jerked it open.
“
The subject is closed, Miss Westbrook, once and for all.
”

Hilary marched out, her head held high, her cheeks scarlet. Dr. Marsden, just completing his morning rounds, which consisted chiefly of chatting for a few moments with each guest before his clinic hours began, was coming along the hall, and as she stopped outside Drew Ramsey
’
s office for a moment, head high and fists tightly clenched in the capacious pockets of her uniform, he grinned wryly at her and crossed to his own office door, swung it open and motioned her inside.

“
So it
’
s come,
”
he said dryly, and pushed her gently into a chair beside his desk.
“
I
’
ve been expecting it, but not quite so soon. Want to tell me about it?
”

Hilary drew a deep, hard breath and forced an unconvincing smile.

“
I—have to tell you about it, because I owe you an apology.
”
She gulped back the angry tears and accepted the cleansing tissue Dr. Marsden offered, scrubbed hard at her eyes and blew her nose.

Dr. Marsden watched her, concerned yet slightly amused, too, as she tried to master the threatening tears.

“
I can
’
t imagine you owing anybody an apology,
”
he admitted frankly.
“
If you do, I
’
m sure it
’
s for an error of the head, not the heart. So you have been rowing with our esteemed Administrator.
”

“
It wasn
’
t really a row,
”
she admitted huskily.
“
I only got a chance to put in the opening words, and then he threw me out.
”

“
It was about the empty wards, and the use to which you feel they should be put, of course,
”
said Dr. Marsden in a tone that said there could not possibly be any question of that.

“
And of course he thought you had put me up to it,
”
she managed.
“
That
’
s why I felt I owed you an apology, since you didn
’
t have anything to do with it.
”

Dr. Marsden shook his head, smiling.

“
Oh, yes, I did. I showed you the wards and told you the use I felt should be given them, to fill them,
”
he reminded her, and smiled faintly.
“
Though I
did
warn you that it would be useless to try to talk to him.
”

“
It was only because that poor man, Thad Carter, died,
”
Hilary said huskily.
“
And because he might have had a chance to get well if he had been in a hospital.
”

“
He might, of course,
”
Dr. Marsden agreed heavily.
“
But we must remember that he was in his seventies, that he was frail and weak from overwork and underfeeding practically his whole life. When pneumonia caught him, he had very little to fight back with. You and I like to feel that, given a chance where there was an oxygen lung, all the paraphernalia which is sitting in the empty wards unused, he might have lived. But he only
might
—you mustn
’
t torture yourself by thinking that we failed him because he couldn
’
t be brought here, or to some place comparable.
”

Hilary nodded, her emotions under control.

“
I know,
”
she admitted, her voice somewhat steadier.
“
I
’
ve seen elderly patients die even when they
’
ve had the very best of care. I served a year at Grady Memorial, and of course I know that. After all, medical skill, the best of care, every sort of equipment can only do so much. But the thought of those empty wards, and of people needing them so desperately
...
”

She broke off before the tears could threaten again and gave him a pallid, quite unconvincing smile.

“
I hope I haven
’
t made things awkward for you by going to Mr. Ramsey. He
’
s sure you sent me.
”
She offered humbly.

Dr. Marsden laughed, his eyes cool.

“
You mean that he might fire me? Don
’
t give that a second tho
u
ght,
”
he comforted her.
“
Oh, he might like to, at times; but I
’
m pretty solidly entrenched here, if I may say so without boasting.
”

“
Well, I should think you would be! I can
’
t think of anybody who could possibly do a better job than you
’
re doing—
”
She broke off, flushed, as she heard the ardent enthusiasm in her voice.

“
That
’
s most kind of you,
”
he told her, and though his tone was warm with appreciation there was the ghost of a twinkle in his blue eyes.
“
I had my battle royal with Ramsey when I refused to come unless he
’
d let me have the clinic. He was horrified, of course; but I went before the board, explained what I hoped to accomplish and got the wholehearted endorsement of the Board, to a man. I also had Mrs. Keenan
’
s approval—and as you have probably learned by now, the Duchess packs a lot of weight, not all of it physical, I might add.
”