The Rosary
Chapter XVII
Enter — Nurse Rosemary
Nurse Rosemary Gray had arrived at Gleneesh.
When she and her "box" were deposited on the platform of the little wayside
railway station, she felt she had indeed dropped from the clouds; leaving her
own world, and her own identity, on some far- distant planet.
A motor waited outside the station, and she had a momentary fear lest she
should receive deferential recognition from the chauffeur. But he was as solid
and stolid as any other portion of the car, and paid no more attention to her
than he did to her baggage. The one was a nurse; the other, a box, both common
nouns, and merely articles to be conveyed to Gleneesh according to orders. So he
looked straight before him, presenting a sphinx-like profile beneath the peak of
his leather cap, while a slow and solemn porter helped Jane and her luggage into
the motor. When she had rewarded the porter with threepence, conscientiously
endeavouring to live down to her box, the chauffeur moved foot and hand with the
silent precision of a machine, they swung round into the open, and took the road
for the hills.
Up into the fragrant heather and grey rocks; miles of moor and sky and
solitude. More than ever Jane felt as if she had dropped into another world, and
so small an incident as the omission of the usual respectful salute of a
servant, gave her a delightful sense of success and security in her new role.
She had often heard of Garth's old castle up in the North, an inheritance
from his mother's family, but was hardly prepared for so much picturesque beauty
or such stateliness of archway and entrance. As they wound up the hillside and
the grey turrets came into view, with pine woods behind and above, she seemed to
hear Garth's boyish voice under the cedar at Overdene, with its ring of buoyant
enjoyment, saying: "I should like you to see Castle Gleneesh. You would enjoy
the view from the terrace; and the pine woods, and the moor." And then he had
laughingly declared his intention of getting up a "best party" of his own, with
the duchess as chaperon; and she had promised to make one of it. And now he, the
owner of all this loveliness, was blind and helpless; and she was entering the
fair portals of Gleneesh, unknown to him, unrecognised by any, as a
nurse-secretary sort of person. Jane had said at Overdene: "Yes, ask us, and see
what happens." And now this was happening. What would happen next?
Garth's man, Simpson, received her at the door, and again a possible danger
was safely passed. He had entered Garth's service within the last three years
and evidently did not know her by sight.
Jane stood looking round the old hall, in the leisurely way of one accustomed
to arrive for the first time as guest at the country homes of her friends;
noting the quaint, large fireplace, and the shadowy antlers high up on the
walls. Then she became aware that Simpson, already half-way up the wide oak
staircase, was expecting the nurse to hurry after him. This she did, and was
received at the top of the staircase by old Margery. It did not require the lawn
kerchief, the black satin apron, and the lavender ribbons, for Jane to recognise
Garth's old Scotch nurse, housekeeper, and friend. One glance at the grave,
kindly face, wrinkled and rosy, — a beautiful combination of perfect health and
advancing years, — was enough. The shrewd, keen eyes, seeing quickly beneath
the surface, were unmistakable. She conducted Jane to her room, talking all the
time in a kindly effort to set her at her ease, and to express a warm welcome
with gentle dignity, not forgetting the cloud of sadness which hung over the
house and rendered her presence necessary. She called her "Nurse Gray" at the
conclusion of every sentence, with an upward inflection and pretty rolling of
the r's, which charmed Jane. She longed to say: "You old dear! How I shall enjoy
being in the house with you!" but remembered in time that a remark which would
have been gratifying condescension on the part of the Honourable Jane Champion,
would be little short of impertinent familiarity from Nurse Rosemary Gray. So
she followed meekly into the pretty room prepared for her; admired the chintz;
answered questions about her night journey; admitted that she would be very glad
of breakfast, but still more of a bath if convenient.
And now bath and breakfast were both over, and Jane was standing beside the
window in her room, looking down at the wonderful view, and waiting until the
local doctor should arrive and summon her to Garth's room.
She had put on the freshest-looking and most business-like of her uniforms, a
blue print gown, linen collar and cuffs, and a white apron with shoulder straps
and large pockets. She also wore the becoming cap belonging to one of the
institutions to which she had once been for training. She did not intend wearing
this later on, but just this morning she omitted no detail which could impress
Dr. Mackenzie with her extremely professional appearance. She was painfully
conscious that the severe simplicity of her dress tended rather to add to her
height, notwithstanding her low-heeled ward shoes with their noiseless rubber
soles. She could but hope Deryck would prove right as to the view Dr. Mackenzie
would take.
And then far away in the distance, along the white ribbon of road, winding up
from the valley, she saw a high gig, trotting swiftly; one man in it, and a
small groom seated behind. Her hour had come.
Jane fell upon her knees, at the window, and prayed for strength, wisdom, and
courage. She could realise absolutely nothing. She had thought so much and so
continuously, that all mental vision was out of focus and had become a blur.
Even his dear face had faded and was hidden from her when she frantically strove
to recall it to her mental view. Only the actual fact remained clear, that in a
few short minutes she would be taken to the room where he lay. She would see the
face she had not seen since they stood together at the chancel step — the face
from which the glad confidence slowly faded, a horror of chill disillusion
taking its place.
"Anoint and cheer our soiled face
With the abundance of Thy grace."
She would see that dear face, and he, sightless, would not see hers, but
would be easily deluded into believing her to be some one else.
The gig had turned the last bend of the road, and passed out of sight on its
way to the front of the house.
Jane rose and stood waiting. Suddenly she remembered two sentences of her
conversation with Deryck. She had said: "Shall I ever have the courage to carry
it through?" And Deryck had answered, earnestly: "If you value your own eventual
happiness and his, you will."
A tap came at her door. Jane walked across the room, and opened it.
Simpson stood on the threshold.
"Dr. Mackenzie is in the library, nurse," he said, "and wishes to see you
there."
"Then, will you kindly take me to the library, Mr. Simpson," said Nurse
Rosemary Gray.