After dinner, Garth sat long at the piano, filling the room with harmony. Once or twice the theme of The Rosary crept in, and Jane listened anxiously for its development; but almost immediately it gave way to something else. It seemed rather to haunt the other melodies, than to be actually there itself.
When Garth left the piano, and, guided by the purple cord, reached his chair, Nurse Rosemary said gently "Mr. Dalmain, can you spare me for a few days at the end of this week?"
"Oh, why?" said Garth. "To go where? And for how long? Ah, I know I ought to say: "Certainly! Delighted!" after all your goodness to me.
But I really cannot! You don"t know what life was without you, when you week-ended! That week-end seemed months, even though Brand was here. It is your own fault for making yourself so indispensable."
Nurse Rosemary smiled. "I daresay I shall not be away for long," she said. "That is, if you want me, I can return. But, Mr. Dalmain, I intend to-night to write that letter of which I told you. I shall post it to-morrow. I must follow it up almost immediately. I must be with him when he receives it, or soon afterwards. I think--I hope--he will want me at once. This is Monday. May I go on Thursday?"
Poor Garth looked blankly dismayed.
"Do nurses, as a rule, leave their patients, and rush off to their young men in order to find out how they have liked their letters?" he inquired, in mock protest.
"Not as a rule, sir," replied Nurse Rosemary, demurely. "But this is an exceptional case."
"I shall wire to Brand."
"He will send you a more efficient and more dependable person."
"Oh you wicked little thing!" cried Garth. "If Miss Champion were here, she would shake you! You, know perfectly well that n.o.body could fill your place!"
"It is good of you to say so, sir," replied Nurse Rosemary, meekly.
"And is Miss Champion much addicted to shaking people?"
"Don"t call me "sir"! Yes; when people are tiresome she often says she would like to shake them; and one has a mental vision of how their teeth would chatter. There is a certain little lady of our acquaintance whom we always call "Mrs. Do-and-don"t." She isn"t in our set; but she calls upon it; and sometimes it asks her to lunch, for fun. If you inquire whether she likes a thing, she says: "Well, I do, and I don"t."
If you ask whether she is going to a certain function, she says: "Well, I am, and I"m not." And if you send her a note, imploring a straight answer to a direct question, the answer comes back: "Yes AND no." Miss Champion used to say she would like to take her up by the scruff of her feather boa, and shake her, asking at intervals: "Shall I stop?" so as to wring from Mrs. Do-and-don"t a definite affirmative, for once."
"Could Miss Champion carry out such a threat? Is she a very ma.s.sive person?"
"Well, she could, you know; but she wouldn"t. She is most awfully kind, even to little freaks she laughs at. No, she isn"t ma.s.sive. That word does not describe her at all. But she is large, and very finely developed. Do you know the Venus of Milo? Yes; in the Louvre. I am glad you know Paris. Well, just imagine the Venus of Milo in a tailor-made coat and skirt,--and you have Miss Champion."
Nurse Rosemary laughed, hysterically. Either the Venus of Milo, or Miss Champion, or this combination of both, proved too much for her.
"Little d.i.c.ky Brand summed up Mrs. Do-and-don"t rather well," pursued Garth. "She was calling at Wimpole Street, on Lady Brand"s "at home"
day. And d.i.c.ky stood talking to me, in his black velvets and white waistcoat, a miniature edition of Sir Deryck. He indicated Mrs.
Do-and-don"t on a distant lounge, and remarked: "THAT lady never KNOWS; she always THINKS. I asked her if her little girl might come to my party, and she said: "I think so." Now if she had asked ME if I was coming to HER party, I should have said: "Thank you; I am." It is very trying when people only THINK about important things, such as little girls and parties; because their thinking never amounts to much. It does not so much matter what they think about other things--the weather, for instance; because that all happens, whether they think or not. Mummie asked that lady whether it was raining when she got here; and she said: "I THINK not." I can"t imagine why Mummie always wants to know what her friends think about the weather. I have heard her ask seven ladies this afternoon whether it is raining. Now if father or I wanted to know whether it was raining we should just step over to the window, and look out; and then come back and go do with really interesting conversation. But Mummie asks them whether it is raining, or whether they think it has been raining, or is going to rain; and when they have told her, she hurries away and asks somebody else. I asked the thinking lady in the feather thing, whether she knew who the father and mother were, of the young lady whom Cain married; and she said: "Well, I do; and I don"t." I said: "If you DO, perhaps you will tell me. And if you DON"T, perhaps you would like to take my hand, and we will walk over together and ask the Bishop--the one with the thin legs, and the gold cross, talking to Mummie." But she thought she had to go, quite in a hurry. So I saw her off; and then asked the Bishop alone. Bishops are most satisfactory kind of people; because they are quite sure about everything; and you feel safe in quoting them to Nurse. Nurse told Marsdon that this one is in "sheep"s clothing,"
because he wears a gold cross. I saw the cross; but I saw no sheep"s clothing. I was looking out for the kind of woolly thing our new curate wears on his back in church. Should you call that "sheep"s clothing"? I asked father, and he said: "No. Bunny-skin." And mother seemed as shocked as if father and I had spoken in church, instead of just as we came out. And she said: "It is a B.A. hood." Possibly she thinks "baa"
is spelled with only one "a." Anyway father and I felt it best to let the subject drop.""
Nurse Rosemary laughed. "How exactly like d.i.c.ky," she said. "I could hear his grave little voice, and almost see him pull down his small waistcoat!"
"Why, do you know the little chap?" asked Garth.
"Yes," replied Nurse Rosemary; "I have stayed with them. Talking to d.i.c.ky is an education; and Baby Blossom is a sweet romp. Here comes Simpson. How quickly the evening has flown. Then may I be off on Thursday?"
"I am helpless," said Garth. "I cannot say "no." But suppose you do not come back?"
"Then you can wire to Dr. Brand."
"I believe you want to leave me," said Garth reproachfully.
"I do, and I don"t!" laughed Nurse Rosemary; and fled from his outstretched hands.
When Jane had locked the letter-bag earlier that evening, and handed it to Simpson, she had slipped in two letters of her own. One was addressed to
Georgina, d.u.c.h.ess of Meldrum
Portland Place
The other, to
Sir Deryck Brand
Wimpole Street
Both were marked: Urgent. If absent, forward immediately.
CHAPTER x.x.xII
AN INTERLUDE
Tuesday pa.s.sed uneventfully, to all outward seeming.
There was nothing to indicate to Garth that his secretary had sat up writing most of the night; only varying that employment by spending long moments in silent contemplation of his pictures, which had found a temporary place of safety, on their way back to the studio, in a deep cupboard in her room, of which she had the key.
If Nurse Rosemary marked, with a pang of tender compunction, the worn look on Garth"s face, telling how mental suffering had chased away sleep; she made no comment thereupon.
Thus Tuesday pa.s.sed, in uneventful monotony.
Two telegrams had arrived for Nurse Gray in the course of the morning.
The first came while she was reading a Times leader aloud to Garth.
Simpson brought it in, saying: "A telegram for you, miss."
It was always a source of gratification to Simpson afterwards, that, almost from the first, he had been led, by what he called his "unHaided HintuHition," to drop the "nurse," and address Jane with the conventional "miss." In time he almost convinced himself that he had also discerned in her "a Honourable"; but this, Margery Graem firmly refused to allow. She herself had had her "doots," and kept them to herself; but all Mr. Simpson"s surmisings had been freely expressed and reiterated in the housekeeper"s room; and never a word about any honourable lead pa.s.sed Mr. Simpson"s lips. Therefore Mrs. Graem berated him for being so ready to "go astray and speak lies." But Maggie, the housemaid, had always felt sure Mr. Simpson knew more than he said.
"Said more than he knew, you mean," prompted old Margery. "No,"
retorted Maggie, "I know what I said; and I said what I meant." "You may have said what you meant, but you did not mean what you knew,"
insisted Margery; "and if anybody says another word on the matter, _I_ shall say grace and dismiss the table," continued old Margery, exercising the cloture, by virtue of her authority, in a way which Simpson and Maggie, who both wished for cheese, afterwards described as "mean."
But this was long after the uneventful Tuesday, when Simpson entered, with a salver; and, finding Jane enveloped in the Times, said: "A telegram for you, miss."
Nurse Rosemary took it; apologised for the interruption, and opened it.