Nurse in White (11 page)

“Wow! Was I surprised! And what a scandal that’s going to make in this burg! Fancy Braddock and Agatha! No one will believe they weren’t actually together. And old lady Braddock about ready to pass out! I’d give a good deal to know if Angus smelled something fishy about those tickets or if he’s wise to them being sweet on each other and was himself playing Cupid. I’d give a good deal to know.”

Ellen still said nothing.

“While she was in that soft mood, I worked on her,” Ann went on. “Hoped I’d soon get a chance at a private case again—blah-blah-blah. Then I switched to the subject of her fairness, more blah-blah-blah. Before I left the office she had changed me from nights in the gossip shop to nights in seventy-four. That’s what I call using the old bean, Ellen. Eh, what?”

“And some bright day you’re going to find that ‘old bean’ of yours landing you in a peck of trouble, Ann Murdock. Honestly, I can’t see why you do such crazy things,” Ellen cried, exasperated at the other’s smug grin.

“Of course you don’t, darling Stiff-in-the-morals. You are two-thirds vegetable like all the rest of the bunch in this hospital—this whole town, for that matter, I’d go stark raving mad if I didn’t kick over the traces once in a while.” She kicked up her heels, then lay inert once more, watching the other girl with bright, slyly mocking eyes.

“A grand nurse you’re going to make,” Ellen told her severely, although she didn’t swallow half the trash Ann had been handing out.

“Uh-uh.” Ann’s bright head rolled from side to side in quick denial. “I couldn’t live up to that pledge if I tried, Ellen. Sin entered into me at birth—a double dose of it. That pledge is for you, my sweet,” She mocked and began a slow intoning. “ ‘I solemnly pledge myself before God, and in the presence of this company, to pass my life in purity and to practice my profession faithfully. I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous—’ imagine, me ‘—and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug. I will do all in my power to maintain and elevate the standard of my profession—’ that’s a laugh ‘—and will hold in confidence all personal matters committed to my keeping and all family affairs coming to my knowledge in the practice of my calling. Wi
th loyalty will I endeavor to ai
d the physician in his work—’ aid them? We do most of it; all that really counts, anyway ‘—and devote myself to the welfare of those committed to my care.’ Ah-aha-ah-a-a-aha-men!” Her unmusical voice rose raucously and Ellen couldn’t repress a giggle although she was instantly ashamed. That pledge was sacred to her—something to be carried like a torch, high and white and ever burning. She knew Ann’s eyes were on her, hoping she would be shocked.

“I’ll be out of this dump before June, Ellen,” Ann said, defiantly. “I’ll not be a nurse much longer, thank heaven!”

“Before June? Now what?” Ellen came and looked down at her with troubled eyes. “Has Tip decided that it’s you after all?”

A shadow flitted across Ann’s lovely mobile face for a moment, and was gone. She gave a hard little laugh. “Tip? Who is Tip? Oh, yes, Tip—there was a Tip, wasn’t there? No, it’s nothing so infantile as Tip Waring, nor Cyrus Dent, either. She sprang to her feet and slipped her arm through Ellen’s. “Come on, precious, let’s do a jump-in-jump-out and then to work!”

Ellen knew the incident was closed and if she wondered just what Ann was planning, she gave no sign. They spent the next few minutes in the pool, then arm in arm went down the long corridor and up the stairs to their rooms.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dr. MacGowan came
to Violet Terrill’s room soon after Ellen went on duty that same evening. Again he was in hospital white. Ellen knew that an emergency operation had been performed on Mrs. Slavonski. She felt a deep pity for the woman and was anxious for news of her.

“Came through splendidly,” Dr. MacGowan assured her. “Too bad her gude-for-naught man could not be reached. Now, how is our patient?”

Since the night when he had paid her a call in Ward L, the chief of staff had been most affable on those occasions when their paths had crossed and once or twice had singled her out for special attention at clinic and lecture. Aside from the knowing glances with which Ann favored her on those occasions, Ellen saw no significance in the contacts and she was sure neither did anyone else, least of all Miss Forsyth, or they most certainly would have ceased.

On this evening the surgeon examined Miss Terrill, pronounced himself highly satisfied with her progress and then announced that she was to be allowed to leave the hospital next day. An ambulance was arriving from Boston early in the morning, with a doctor and nurse in attendance. Mrs. Langham entered while they were discussing the trip.

“I’m going to miss her,” Ellen said warmly. “That’s the one drawback to nursing. One does get attached to one’s patients. And we have all been so interested in Lady X.”

Mrs. Langham smiled. “Vi’s a nice youngster—always was. I’m afraid she’s been badly spoiled. She can be annoyingly willful and stubborn at times.”

Ellen wondered if she referred to Vi’s engagement to her brother.

“By the way, just who is this Dent man? Oh, I know he is interning here, but who is he?”

So Mrs. Langham had noticed his interest in her cousin. Before Ellen could answer, however, Dr. MacGowan drew her aside.

“I’m wondering if you would care to visit a patient of one of my colleagues. A most interesting case; the injury to the spine quite similar to Miss Terrill’s. Would tomorrow afternoon be convenient?”

Ellen was startled. What would the superintendent say? It just wasn’t done. Still, if the chief of staff wanted her to go, why wasn’t it all right? After all, it was strictly in the line of duty, wasn’t it? Of course. How silly she was! That was due to Ann’s nonsense. A little while ago she would have thought nothing of it. .

“Thank you, Dr. MacGowan—it is kind of you to suggest it. At what time?”

The surgeon’s face was slightly flushed, he fidgeted somewhat and it amused Ellen to know that he was actually nervous at asking her. The great MacGowan! Quite unconsciously he sighed—probably in relief, Ellen felt sure.

“Will three o’clock be too early? Shall you have rested sufficiently?”

“Three will do nicely, Doctor.” Ellen smiled up at him, her frank brown eyes friendly.

“Good! May I suggest that you dress warmly? It will be a long drive. Good night, El—er, Gaylord.”

“Well!” Ellen murmured to herself as she watched the tall, white-clad, somewhat ungainly figure disappear through the door. “What a break for me that Ann Murdock didn’t hear that! And I hope to goodness no one sees me go off with him tomorrow afternoon. If they do, something will happen. Darn that Ann! She’s managed to make a self-conscious idiot out of me.”

Shots in quick succession—the sound of running feet along the corridor—a policeman’s shrill whistle and the long eerie siren of the patrol car, shattered the evening’s comparative quiet. Violet Terrill’s eyes widened in sudden terror and Ellen quickly shut the door, standing with her back against it as if to keep whatever threatened from entering. She felt a sudden pressure and the handle turned.

“Who is it?” she asked, exerting all her strength to prevent entrance.

“Me—Dent. Are you all right, Ellen? Let me in.”

Ellen stood aside. Dent’s face was drained of color but he managed a wry grin as he caught her hand in a sudden hard grip.

“You win, Nightingale,” he murmured. “That publicity stunt wasn’t such a hot idea after all.”

“O-oh, doctor!” moaned Violet and Cy turned to the bed. “Don’t be scared,” he said soothingly. “Just a wounded bad man we’ve been harboring for the police. His pals came to get him and fell into a trap. There,” as the police siren shrilled again, “there they go, and good riddance to bad rubbish, say we all. Don’t tell me a big girl like you is scared! Look at Nightingale there—cool and calm as—as—an iceberg.”

Nancy Langham raised an eyebrow, her look quizzical. Ellen forced an aloof smile; her lips felt stiff, and she gave a strangled gasp as Cyrus Dent toppled sidewise and lay huddled on the floor beside the bed. Violet Terrill screamed. Ellen fou
nd herself on her k
nees beside him, his head in her lap. The floor nurse rushed in—Dr. MacGowan, who couldn’t have been far off, followed. A stretcher was summoned and Dent was taken to the operating room, all in the space of a few minutes.

Horrified and confused though she was, Ellen attempted to quiet the terrified Violet, who shrank from a spot of blood on the snowy coverlet. Someone swabbed the floor beside the bed and Ellen and the floor nurse deftly changed the stained linen.

“Oh, Nan, take me away!” Violet moaned. “This horrible—this beastly place!”

“All right, dear. We’re leaving tomorrow morning quite early,” her cousin soothed.

Ellen bit her lip. Not a word about Cy. Oh, suppose he was badly hurt! Mac appeared terribly concerned. She had never seen that look of alarm on his face before. And the way he knelt beside her on the floor and after a quick examination took Cy’s head into his own arms—as if it were something precious—something infinitely dear to him. She looked at the whimpering girl on the bed with something akin to dislike. Selfish, she accused silently; selfish and spoiled!

But the girl was a nervous wreck—she ought not to censure her. Yet, even she, who had actually disliked the man, felt sick and weak at the thought of his possible critical injury. Just what had happened? And where had he been hurt? She wished someone would tell her. Suspense was awful—a terrifying demon that sapped one’s strength and undermined one’s reason.

Nancy Langham looked up. “I hope Dr. Dent isn’t seriously injured. What could have happened?” She spoke in a whisper.

‘“You asked about him, Mrs. Langham,” Ellen said quickly, for some reason feeling called upon to champion him. “Dr. Dent’s a grand boy and a fine doctor. I believe he is planning on going in with one of your Boston specialists in the spring. Surely you wouldn’t object—if it is serious, I mean?” Now why did she ask that? It was none of her business. She glanced at Violet again. She lay with her hands covering her eyes, little whimpering moans coming from her slightly parted lips.

Nancy Langham smiled. “Object, Miss Gaylord? You mean Vi and he? What good would that do? No, my dear, I have discovered that it is quite useless to interfere in love affairs. I only hope that my brother hasn’t been permanently hurt. I don’t think I could quite forgive that. He seemed to care a great deal for Vi. You see, she is really Lady Violet Terrill—she dropped her title during this visit because she wanted complete rest and quiet. She has a large estate in Devon and quite a lot of money, but that would make no difference if Vi loves this good-looking young medico and decides to marry him. But, oh, it is all probably just—what do you call it—propinquity. When she leaves, she will no doubt forget—I shall be so glad to get her away!”

Dr. MacGowan hurried down the corridor. Ellen and Mrs. Langham barred the door. “Everything is quiet,” he said crisply. His eyes searched Ellen’s face. “Dr. Dent was shot just below the shoulder—not at all serious. I hope you weren’t frightened!”

“Oh, this frightful place!” moaned Violet, hands still over her eyes. “I wish I had never come to the States.”

“You’ll soon forget all this, darling,” Mrs. Langham assured her. “Wait ’till you see Terry and Petey—they’ll change your entire viewpoint. If you’re able to travel, we’ll go south until spring and then to Cape Cod where the stiff sea breezes will put you on your feet in no time at all.” She smiled demurely at the lovely girl on the bed. “If you hadn’t come, you would never have met Dr. Dent, darling.” She said the last softly—teasingly.

Violet’s eyes sparkled and she watched Ellen closely as she said softly, “Isn’t he sweet, Nan?” Dr. MacGowan turned his back and walked over to the window. Ellen felt sure he wasn’t pleased. His mouth was grim and his eyes that frightening icy gray. “And did you
know
that he gave me his blood when I first came?”

Ellen had drawn into the background, she didn’t want to hear any more. Now, as Dr. MacGowan turned and cleared his throat preparatory to making some remark that Ellen felt sure wouldn’t have tended to enhance the patient’s’
self-esteem
, she laid a small, firm hand on his arm.

“I’m glad it’s over,” she said quietly. “I haven’t felt easy since Lady X came.”

“This will give the local constabulary a topic of conversation for a long, long time,” the doctor said gruffly and laid his hand over hers for a moment. “Braw laddies, our local police. I doubt if New York’s finest could have done better under the circumstances.”

“Sometime I want to near the whole story of tonight’s fracas,” Ellen said.

“Oh, you wull—a thousand times I hae na doot—doubt,” he jeered. “That’s the worst of smail towns, they harp so everlastingly on a single string.” He hurried away.

The look in Violet Terrill’s eyes puzzled Ellen. She had seen that same look in the eyes of her twelve-year-old niece when she was preparing to acquire—without leave—her sister’s pet blouse or new sweater. She had recognized it when Ann eyed another girl’s attractive man and had watched Mrs. Braddock as she was so obviously polite to Miss Forsyth.

Ellen thought Violet Terrill above greedy acquisitiveness. Surely she had never needed to exert herself to win favor with anyone. Beautiful, wealthy, socially secure—why, men must have literally besieged her with their attentions. Surely she didn’t find it necessary to resort to the wiles of a coquette to ensnare Cyrus Dent. An idea thrust through her musings. Did Violet think she was interested in Dr. Dent? She blushed at the thought. Or, did she have the preposterous notion that the handsome Cyrus was interested in her? Her eyes sparkled reminiscently. Absurd! To him, she was just someone on whom he might whet his perverted sense of humor. Knowing she was quite indifferent to him, he delighted in baiting her. That was all. She had no illusions regarding Dr. Cyrus Mansfield Dent. And Violet Terrill could save her ammunition for some more dangerous rival.

Violet and Mrs. Langham were talking in low tones. Suddenly Violet called, “Nurse Gaylord—please find out if Dr. Dent will be able to come to me before I leave in the morning.”

“I doubt it, Miss Terrill,” Ellen said, and was unaccountably glad that he wouldn’t. “But I will inquire, if you like.”

“Of course. Why else should I ask?”

Nancy Langham smiled apologetically. Ellen flushed and left the room. She delivered the message to Thompson, Dr. Dent’s nurse, and that young woman made a flat denial—laughing at the absurdity of the request.

“What’s the matter with her?” Thompson sputtered irately. “Does she think doc’s putting on an act? Perhaps for her special benefit? He probably did save her life if she only knew it. Absolutely no. Tell her Dr. Dent won’t be out of bed in a week—make it a month—two months.” She patted Ellen’s arm. “Murdock had her number all right, Gaylord—Lady X is a menace and after all you did for her; but that’s life, especially a nurse’s life.”

Ellen only half heard. Was Cy really badly hurt? There was a little tugging pain at her heart.

“Just what happened, Thompy?” she asked.

“Well, he happened to be in with forty-three when these two men breezed in. Forty-three was talking sort of crazily and the bigger of the visitors said to doc, ‘We’re not satisfied with Joe’s progress, see? We’re taking him away, now.’ Doc faced them and Burns, who happened in the doorway when the first came, and lingered—Burns never misses a trick, does she—said he was cool as a cucumber. He said, ‘That’s what you think; but he’s not going.’ The big man snarled. ‘We’ve settled with the dame and now we’ll settle with—’ and pulled a gun and doc rushed him. Burns screamed—she would—and ran and she said she never saw anything like the way the policemen poured into that corridor. And when she went back to forty-three, the patient was dead and doc had disappeared. Then came the siren scream of Her Royal Highness and doc’s romantic collapse beside her bed. That’s the story without any trimmings. He’s still dopey. They had to probe for the bullet but he’ll be all right. So, darling, go back and tell her ladyship that there will be no last minute visit from Romeo tomorrow and if there are any billets-doux, the hospital minions will take care of them. Bah! I thought he had more sense!”

Ellen went down the long corridor to Lady Violet’s room. How mistaken she had been in this girl! Dumb, plain dumb, Ellen Gaylord! Everyone else in the hospital put Lady X down as selfish, supercilious and greedy, while only she held to the opinion that she was something precious and altogether lovely. And surely when she had lain there, lost and frightened, she had not been like this. Instead, she had clung to Ellen—been sweetly grateful for her tenderness and care. She thought back to the moment when she had first noticed her apparent attraction to Dr. Dent. Why, it was on the very day the advertisement had first appeared in
the Brentwood Daily Herald.
And she had been so thankful that Lady X was beginning to take an interest in her surroundings! Well, what about it? Surely she wasn’t jealous! She quickened her step. Cy had always insisted she was somebody—that she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Hadn’t he? Well, why hadn’t she been prepared for his denouement instead of feeling half-sick over it? Surely Dr. Dent was old enough and had had experience enough to pick the wife he wanted, and if he had decided on Lady Violet Terrill, why, that was his affair and none of her business in the least.