Nurse in Love Read Free Page A

nurse is going to be put o ff by any conditions whatsoever.”
    The older woman’s eyes softened. “What an idealist you are, Clare! You love every minute of your nursing, don’t you?”
    “I’m not the only one,” defended Kathryn. “Sister Bridgeworth — ”
    “Well, I’m not loving this morning’s prospects, I can tell you.” Sister Bridgeworth stood up briskly and pushed in her chair. “Last time they wished students on to me I told Matron I was in charge of a Medical ward, not a kindergarten.”
    “You told Matron nothing of the sort!” Kathryn rose too, and they left the dining-room together. “On the contrary, if I know you, you buckled to and did the work for them. Didn’t you now?”
    Sister Bridgeworth had the grace to blush. “It’s often quicker that way,” she allowed.
    “Well, I can promise you that you’ve got one student who is intelligent and keen,” promised Kathryn. “She’s a friend of mine.”
    “What is her name?”
    “Spender. Sara Spender. Straight fair hair and blue eyes.”
    “I’ll look out for her. And by the time she’s used to my ways she’ll probably decide that a nursing career is not for her, and s he’ll l eave.”
    “This one won’t.”
    “Well she’ll be whisked off to Theatre or night duty or something.”
    “Of course she will. Aren’t they all? Or didn’t you know that Matron’s duty-list has the game of General Post beaten to a frazzle?” laughed Kathryn as they parted.
    On her own ward she was greeted as usual by a babel of childish voices, mostly cheerful, but interspersed here and there by a rising wail of protest. Before going to take the night report she looked in upon one or two of the four-cot wards, where she opened a window, ruffled a tousled head or two, scanned a chart and responded to the gay chorus of: “G’ morning, Sister!”
    In her office the senior night nurse awaited her with the report. But before she began to chant mechanically through it Kathryn asked quickly: “Did you have any admissions, Nurse ? ”
    “Yes one. From Casualty. A boy named Roger Horrick. Five, he is. Eight-thirty last night. Fractured tibia, bruises and shock.” The girl looked up from the report. “A lorry ran him down, Sister.”
    “Yes, I know. I saw it happen. That’s why I asked,”
    “Oh, Sister — ! He’s not in danger, though.”
    “Good. Have his people seen him?”
    “His mother came in for a few minutes last night She’s to come again to-day.”
    “All right, I’ll go and see him. And now what’s the rest of the report, Nurse?”
    When the night staff had completed their work and gone off duty, the ward slipped smoothly into its customary daytime routine. The children, naturally, were unaware that this particular day held any special prospect, but Kathryn and the staff were alert with the expectancy of seeing the ward’s new specialist upon his first round.
    Kathryn went for her morning break at nine-thirty, calculating that he would not arrive until after she got back. And she planned, on her return, to go to spend a little time with Roger Horrick, who had been fretful when she left.
    But when she went to the single-cot ward where he lay she was surprised to find that he was no longer alone.
    On one side of his bed stood a man with his back to the door—it could only be Dr . Brand, she decided. On the other stood a working woman who started dumbly across at him while her fingers pleated ceaselessly at a corner of the child’s coverlet.
    Kathryn closed the door behind her, and at the sound the man turned. A nd , upon the instant, recognition flashed between them. In Kathryn’s mind there was no doubt at all that they both knew they had met before, and that it had been at this same child’s side, as now. But Dr . Brand made no sign. He allowed his eyes to travel briefly over her, then said:
    “My name is Brand. You’ll have been expecting me. You are Sister Clare, I take it?”
    “Good morning, Dr . Brand. Yes, I’m