Our Novelettes.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 1521, 26 February 1886, Page 4

Our Novelettes.

TIIE TURN OF THE TIDE.

(Continued.) " No, not very ill. It is only one of my feverish colds; but it will lay me up for today. Write a lino Jto Mrs Fortrscue, dear, and tell her I cannot go to her for a day or two. I shall be all right in a little while." " And I must leave you alone f" " I am afraid you must. How lucky we got everything ready last night! Mrs Longford will take care of mo," answered Allace, with pain and fever, and keeping a cheerful face towards her sister to the last.

But, when Vera was gone, she gave herself up to the overpowering illness which was upon her, only forcing herself to send the " de-.r child" a cheerful lino or two by the evening's post, that elie might start with an easier mind the next evening for her Continental travel. It was then that she discovered Vera's two half-crowns wrippod in paper and left on the dressing-table. " I am afraid it is going to be the worst turn I have ever had," she sighed, as she sank h ick agiin after the effort. " How indignant Mrs Fortescuo will be ! - '

Mrs Fortescue was very indignant, and expressed her indignation in two very severe letters, neither of which Allace read, being past all power of doing so by the time they arrived. It was as much as slie could achieve to rend an overflowing epistle from Vera, written on the eve of departure, and enclosing a p jst-otlice order for one pound.

" Mrs Douglas asked me, in the kindest and most delicate manner, if it would bo any convenience to me to have a little money before we started," she wrote. "Sliesaid that there were things which I should find it difficult to buy abroad, and which would add to my omfort in travelling ; and she begged that I wo.ild consider her my banker, and dr iw whatever I liked. Was it not nice of her ? Ho I took enough for a cl >ak, and a new pair of gloves, and I have sent you a sovereign for the boots You can buy the good ones now. 1 liopo your cold is belter, dearest. 1 shall send my next letter to Mrs Longford's care ; and you may address to mo —under civer to Mrs Douglas—Lombird, Odier k Cie., Batiquiers, Geneve. Heaven bless my darling sister! Your loving

" Veua."

After that, Allace was more ill than she had ever been in her life before and Mrs Longford was very much frightened.

' She doem't seem to have a friend in the world," said she to the doctor who she hud called in ; " and it's hard for me, sir—for my apartments is let, fram next week, for a permanency, and I shall lose the let if the bed-room isn't free; and I'm a wi low, with nothing else to live upon but what I make; so you see, sir, it's very hard. Not but that I'm sorry for the young la'iy—very sorry; but we must all look to ourselves."

"Will, it's going to be a long ffT-ri-rheumatic fever. I don't know whii )ou'd do," sai.i the doctor, as ho ran down-stairs, wondering, on the landlady's principle of every one for himself, what he should do for his (re.

Aliace heard the woman's coiuplai it, mado in a loud penetrating whi?per outside her own door, and her mind was speedily made up.

" Doctor," saiJ she, next day, when lie made his vi-it, " I should like to go into a hospital ; you oin make tho necessary arrangements for me, I suppose?" " Certainly, as a special patient, 1 imagine, with u separate room." "JWhat does that cost a wtck "

" About a guinea

"And the ot her w»y is freer"—"Yes—with some fee for entrance."

" Then I canot have a separate room. How soon can I go " In a day or two. I will get you an order. Under the—ahem ! circumstances, I think you will do wisely ; these institutions are admirably managed—every comfort, and good nursing, which you cannot command here. Really, ray dear young lady, I think you will have a much b tter chance." Allace did not answer 5 she was thinking of Vera, and how she should hide from her the fact of her illness, and save her the shock of the hospital—that la-t and direst necessity of all.

" Tiiis is a new chapter indeed !" thought poor Allace, when pain would let her think. "Thank Heaven that Vera is safely away from it

" Mrs Lon'ford's sit at the news took a voluble and officious turn, which nearly middened p >or helpless Allace. She packed up all Allace's belongings, expressed her readiness to take charge of them until such time as she could el mn them again, andtalked on in praise of hospitals and hospital nursing, speeding her now profitless lodger with such heartless alacrity as nerved Allace for what was before her.

The doctor brought the order in due course.

" I have not filled it up," said he—" I ask your name first. I thiuk I have jnot heard it."

" Fortescue," answered Allace, aft»r a moment's hesitation—" Allace Fortegcue and she could not repress a rmile at the usurpation.

So " Alice" Fortescue, as the doctor wrote it, was duly received and entered as an inpatient—No. 20 Ward—of the Westminister Hospital.

" IFere comes the doctor—Doctor Stewart. I shall ask him to scold you" said nurse VVyntor of No 20 Ward to a patient who insisted up >n having her almost helpless fingers guided to write " just three words" to some one abroad, and would not listen to the nurse's propos >d to write for her. " I don't believe much in scolding, nurse," said a decisive voice with a refined accent. A pair of keen eyes took rapid notes of the new patient, and saw one of the most attractive fices their owner ever remembered to have met with, framed in rich dark hair and (lushed pink with fever as it lay ugainst the white pillows of the b'-d. There was something about the face, and perhaps in the small white hunds spread outside the coverlet, which causo 1 the doctor instinctively to bow as ho came up to the bedside. The patient —No. 42, as the Doctor read, in another of bis quick glances, on the card at the foot of her bed—shrank visibly as the Doctor's eyes rested on her. It almost seemed, too, as if at first she would have covered her faca had she been able j but, quickly controlling herself, she returned hia bow with quiet dignity.

" Case brought in yesterday afternoon, Doctor," said the nurse. "Mr Leech has seen her."

The Doctor stooped down and examined the "case," treating it with tho greatest tenderness and delicacy—he was one of the " great," doctors, who h?d been called in to more than one of the Royal Family, ond •tood fair for a baronetcy. Then he said in a courteous tone—

"Ii anything you would Uk« f"

" Yet," she answered, und her poor hands, in spite ot her self-control, twitel e I nervous'y hp slie spoke; "I should like—l wait to write."

" Can you ?" " Yes—with |holp. Doctor, I write just a few words. I must, if it Kills me!" "You shall try. Let me hold your hand.' Ho sent the nurse for pencil and paper, and with his help the few words wern written. ' My Darling,—Address still to Mrs L's. I am not at Mrs Fortescue's. More next time. "Allace"

Ar.d the envelope, as the Doctor could not help seeing, was addressed to

Mademoiselle Driimmond, chez Madame Douglas, Messrs. Lombard, Odier, tj" Cie, Geneve.

" Will you trust it to me to po«t ?" asked the doctor; and Allace smiled as en', and showed her dimples as she smiled. The Doctor made a sign to Nurse Wynter and slie followed him into the corridor.

" Tell me all you know about No. 42," said lie, laconically. "It is not much, sir. She is not an ordinary patient—that you can see directly. Stie is entered as ' Alice but her linen is all marked with a ' IX' " "Whose recommendation '■ Ah, you wouldn't know, of course !"

Doctor Stowart made inquiry in the propor quarter, and received the mme of a commercial magnate a few days later, and prose cuted his inquiries as to No. 42. He found the magnate entirely ignorant on the subject; he coulri not pretend to trace all the hospital orders he distributed, he s iid ; any one who asked for them got them. " Look after the patient well; sho is very ill," was the Doctor's parting injunction to the nurse; and he added, to soothe the nurse's injured feelings, " It was best to humour her about the letter ; the exertion won't hurt her as much as the fretting would have dono." Then he had an interview with the housesurgeon and matron, and the next morning " Alice Fortescue" was removed from No 20 Ward to a small quiet apartment furni-hed as her own bed-room at the Rectory might have been, with fbwers at the windows, mid climbing up a paper trellis-work "ii the wa Is. How many hours of weakt.ess and weariness were soothed by counting the pink and b ue convolvulus blossoms, and tracing the curled tendrils on that papered wall! At the time tlie removal was made th« patient wns not in a sta'e consciously to appreciate the change ; the brave heart had sunk under the burden it had Uken up so gallmtly, relapsing inco a state which roused all the vigilance of h< r attendents, and from which nothing but the devoted care and skill of her new and excellent nurso could have rallied her.

She awoke one day from a long unconsciousness to find Doctor Stewart feeling her p.-lse, and Nurse Thorpe, cup and spoon in haiul, standing by. Allaco looked at them both in a bewildered way, und then round the room —at the shaded windows and the flowerbesprinkled walls. " Where am I?" she as-k'd faintly. "No questions," answered the doctor, " until you have taken some beef-tea." " This is not the hospital," was Allaco's next interrogatory with a eort of shuilder at the word.

"his nit the hospital ward," answered the Doctor; "it is a private room in the hospital." " I cannot, I must not—oh, Doctor, I cmnot pay for it 1" cried Aliace, the colour rushing into her wan face. " You must make yourself quite easy on th .t score," returnrd the Doctor. ' You are in urring no additional expense." "Hat "

' We medical men hare certain privileges he e," said the Doctor. " Yours was a case which required quiet and individual care, nnd in the exercise of iny privilege I had you removed to this room. And now I must forbid all further talking. Nurse, absolute quiet and freedom from excitement, and nourishment to be adminis'ered every half-hour til , I come again." He walked away, imperatively closing the suhject, and Allace with a sigh of content and relief, composed herself to iest whilst Nurse Thorpe turned away with a meaning smile on her lips. Not only had Doctor Stewart privileges, but " Doctor Stewart's patient," as Allace was called, had privileges too. 'Flower*, fruit, the most delicate jellies, the most temptin? and appetising luxuries, were supplied ao the patient's illness took a turn towards convalescence, and supplied, too, with such thoughtful and judicious reference to Allace's tastes and that either Nurse Tnorpe or somebody else must have h d an extra ordinary knowledge of, as well as interest in the suHjecf. Some recognition of this flashed iicross Allace's mind occasionally, but was lost again the weakness which, for some time, made every effort of thought a burden. One day th« nurse c >me to her bed with a bouquet of roses—uot a formal L indon bouquet, but one cut from the tree by a lavish hand, with no niggardly saving of half-opened buds for the morrow's market—such a boaquet as Allsce had often cut from her own trees in the dear old Rectory garden. With an exclamation of delight, she held out her hand.

" Oh, nurse, how lovely ! What an exquisite GHoire de Dijon, and Geant de Bataille and Marie Ther4se ! she cried, identifying her "Id favourites one by one, and almost fondling the® they came to her like a glimpse of the dear old home-garden. " And all these buds' How '!o jou get such flowers in London, and here ''

" Ladies and gentlemen who liave gardens send a quantity of flowers and Iruit to the hospital in the season," answered the nurse, evasively. Allace lain down the bouquet instantly ; she wa* disenchanted. "iihall I put them here whero you can see 'hem, m'm ?" said tho nurse, as she brought a glass with water. " Yes," iinswore l Allace, indifferently, and she closed her eves.

The nurse was vexed—unreasonably, r.o doubt—but she was a warm-hearted, impulsive woman, and she thought the patient was ungrateful. " She might guess," she said to herself, as she arranged tho roses j " and I mustn't tell her."

One day, in the earlv stnge of Allace's recovery, the Doctor came in, and found h s patient propped up in bed, with «n ominou* spot of fever o.i each cheek and the counterpane strewn with letters. Doctor Stewart shook his head as he laid his finger on her pulse. " Oh, Doctor," cried Allace, " I must read them —indeed I must —every one! They are from my sister."

Ar the same time the Doctor's eyes fell on an envelope lying near him. It was iddresse i to " Miss Drummondand the Doctor remembered what nurse Wynttr had told him of the initial' D.'

" They have been forwarded to me—it is so long since I heard. Yes, I will be good whenlbave read them, and you will see how much good they will do me," persisted the patient } an 1 the Doctor yielded, although t' e nurse scolded a little when he was gone.

Vera wrote brightly and cheerfully. Mrs Douglai had proved out of the kmdtit of

fr end?, and the scenes and eiperi'nces of foreign travel wore delightful Vera had only one draw-bark —that Allace was not with her to sl.nre it all Anil she had had 110 letter—nothing but the 'one scrap of paper which had made her fear hrr si-ter was ill. Mrs Douglas had inquired every day ; and sometimes Vera grew sick with longing for a letter, 11 word. Perlmps her poor darling had no money for foreign Jpostagea —she tried to think it was not 1 ing worse than that, al'hough that was had enough. She would try to wait patently, and soon she wonld send some. Mrs Douglas begged she would draw her salary monthly, as, away fr m home, she must need a supply of pocketmoney. Allace was tl ankful that a few lines were already on their way to her sister, and, in her joy at all Vera's good news she tried to ho ' go"d," anil put her last long letter under her pillow for p rusal on the morrow.

From the nature if h< r illness, here mvales. oence was tedious and protracted, and all through this time she learned to look for the Doctor's daily visit as the event of the day. She drifted, too, into Relations of confidence and intimacy with him of which she was scarcely conscious Not only the circumstances of her solitary |si k-room, but something perhaps in the Doctor hims-If, brought this about. It was not only, either, that he was |a man of refinement and cultivation, and that could talk delightfully on all the subjects which intere-ted Allace, but he was singularly sympithetic—as it seamed to her—and could divine ler tastes and opinions almost before she disclosed them. He brought her b' oks, magazines, and papers, which they discu-s-'d together, and, altogether that hospital r<> 'in grew to be so friendly and pleasint a shel er that, when the time came for s- tting her face once more towards the outside world, Allace looked round it with long ng and regret.

" But where are you going? Pardon me if I take a liberty ; you are not fully ' cliaclmrgi d' as mv patient yet* —Doctor Stewart lipid " Alien Fortescue" discharge from t' e hospital in his hand—you are not strong enough to get on without a little more lu-lp from ine. If you wi 1 toil me whero to find yen, I will pr scribe Tor you from time to time, until you are quite the thing ag in." " You are very kind," was all she said, as she looked thouj htfuily out of the window. •'The truth is, I dou't know where I am goirtf." " And you leave hero to-morrow ?"

" Yes." Hp hesitated a moment. " Can I be of any u-e to you P Will you not—trust me?"

" Yes I will," she answered, turning to him with a sudden impul e. " You have been a kin 1 frie-id already. In the fir-t place, mv numo is not 'Fortescue'; it is ' Drummoi.d.' "

" Indeed !" said the Doctor, trying ti look surprised. " I was ill—l was poor—l had no friends. My name——Well, I esteemed it too much to couple it with what I felt to be social degradation, so I hid it." "It is a good name," remarked the Doctor.

" Yes," assented Allace wi'h a li'tle pride. '• My home hns been broken up—by death," Allace went on, holding up her head, with the queenly action babituil to her. "My only sister is abroad —a governess, too. But for this illness "

" And now" he intetrupted. "Now I must find something to do, and as soon as possible." she nd led, fingering the almost empty purse which lay on the tabl<\ The Doctor noticed the action. '• I think said he, s'owlv, " that I know of a post which would—where you would be valued." " I should be much obliged by your recommendation," returned she, with her head well up and a little almost haughty formality in her tone. " Promise me to do no'hin? un'il you see me to-mor ow morning." said the Doctor.

" What could I do ?" the rejoined, smiling H 3 she give him her hand You the only friend I have in the world. 1 will wait for you, of course " The Doctor fell into a musing fit, and in consequence held her by the hand a little longer than was necs j ary. Then he ran down-stairs two steps at a time, and passed the porter without his accustomed nod, much to the porter's astonishment. At the door etoo 1 the Doctor's brougham—in tie brougham sat the Doctor's little daughter. She w; s engaged at that moment watching a tired horse eat his dinner out of a nosebag, wondering whether she could accomplish that uncomfortable method of feeding, and if ut rse, who was very strict would let her try. She was so absorbed in her occupation that she did not see her fa.her's approach and—he did everything so quickly—he had turned the handle of the d >or, given the coachman his orders, and seated himself by her side before she knew it. Then she kissed him and patted his arm, as was her wont.

" Daisy," said her father, presently "do you remember your mother?" " No, papa," replied the child, looking solemn, and shaking her head slowly. " I remember her picture, because you always showed it me ; but I've tried and I've tried. I can't remember her*elf one bit. I was such a little baby then," she added, deprecatingly.

The Doctor look»d out of the window.

" How old are you, Daisy ?" said he, after a brief silence.

" I shall ;be seven neit birthday," papa." " Too old for (ha nursery," muttered the Doctor. The child heard him.

" Daisy, how would you like me to find you a "

" Mamma ?" buret out the child, throwing heree f into his nrms and sobbing with eagernoes. " Oh, pnpa, papa, that's just what I want! Everybody has a nMtnuia but me. Oh, papa!" " 1 meant a governed," (he Doctor, pu:ti' g her back quiikly. Then he juddenly gathered her into his arms again, nnd added, with infinite titideruiss, "My poor little darling!" " I don't want a'governess,'"pouted Daisy, all her passion spent —" that would be as bad as nurse."

The Doctor said nothing. # # # # #

Allaca sat in her room, her h it and gloves on, ready for departu e, and Nurse Tliorpe tearfully putting the finishing touches to her small pick iges. Miss Drummond was waiting for the Doctor as she had promised. Somebody knocked at the door and called the nuree away, land A'lace stood up and looked round the room, with an emotion she had not cared to betray until she found herself alone.

(To be continued)