I
“Well, well!” cried the voice, though softly. “Well, well!”
“Is it the same?” asked the nurse.
“The very same,” the voice replied. It had lost some of the deep rough burr it had had years ago, this voice, but there was no mistaking it. “No,” it went on now, “I’ll not do that. Let her have her sleep out.”
Miss Trant, however, had already had her sleep out. She was awake now, although her eyes were still closed and she had not stirred. The sound of that first quiet but startled “Well!” had drawn her from some deep dreamless place into an upper region of flickering shadows, dreams, and voices. Where was she? The hotel? The hospital? No. The Mirland Nursing Home. And it was Tuesday afternoon. She was back now in full consciousness, though all it offered her at the moment was a quivering brownish space and these two voices. And one of them was his, hardly changed at all.
She opened her eyes, which discovered a world very bright, solid, looking as if it had just been made. He was standing by the door. She was not surprised to see him. She had not been surprised to hear his voice. It was as if she had spent years and years being surprised not to see him and hear his voice, and that that state of things had now quietly stopped.
“Hello!” she cried, feebly.
He came forward, smiling. He looked older, of course, but not strangely so. On the contrary, he looked more himself, as if this were the age he had been aiming at when she had known him, years ago. “Miss Elizabeth Trant,” he said, with deliberation. Nobody else would have said it like that.
“Doctor Hugh McFarlane,” she replied, giving him her hand.
The nurse nodded brightly at the pair of them and departed.
“I thought you were asleep,” he said, sitting down beside her. “And I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You recognized me then?”
“I did,” and left it at that. He was just the same. He was capable of leaving the most gigantic gaps in conversation, never dreamt of filling them in with the nearest rubbish.
‚ÄúHow did you know I was here? Did you‚ÅÝ‚Äîread about us in the paper?‚Äù For the local paper had been very excited about last Saturday‚Äôs doings at the Hippodrome.
“No, I never saw a word about it in the paper,” he replied. “That would be the paper here though, wouldn’t it? I only see The Times and Glasgow Herald, and there wasn’t anything in them about it.”
“I should hope not.”
“But I did hear something about it,” he continued, thrashing the thing out in the same old way. “Then I had to come here to see a patient of mine and saw your name, so I came to see if it was the Miss Elizabeth Trant I knew.”
She could not resist it. “I thought you would have forgotten all about me by this time,” she murmured.
He shook his head gravely. “Not at all. I hadn’t forgotten you. I recognized you as soon as I came in. You haven’t changed much, even with your little accident too. Subnormal now, aren’t you? Yes, you would be.”
‚ÄúI thought I saw you‚ÅÝ‚Äîin a car‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe other day,‚Äù she told him. ‚ÄúOne day last week it was, about ten miles out of Gatford. I came to the conclusion that it couldn‚Äôt be you, but now I think it must have been.‚Äù
“Now exactly when was that? Last week, you say. What time of day would it be?” He brought out, quite solemnly, a little pocketbook.
‚ÄúAfternoon, sometime,‚Äù she replied vaguely. ‚ÄúIt was‚ÅÝ‚Äîlet me see‚ÅÝ‚Äîyou were on the main road going out of Gatford‚ÅÝ‚Äîit seems ages ago now. Oh, it doesn‚Äôt matter, does it?‚Äù
“It must have been last Tuesday, I think,” he said, frowning hard at his little book. “Today week. I’d called here. Was I driving a red two-seater? I was? Then it was me you saw. Isn’t that curious? I wish I’d known you were here.”
Miss Trant hesitated for a moment, evaded his level glance, then said hastily: ‚ÄúAs a matter of fact, we‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI‚ÅÝ‚Äîtried to find out if you were here, just to make sure. But your name wasn‚Äôt in the telephone book. And doctors are always in the telephone book, aren‚Äôt they?‚Äù
‚ÄúNot if they‚Äôve just arrived,‚Äù he said, smiling at her. ‚ÄúThere hasn‚Äôt been time to put me in the telephone directory yet. I‚Äôve just entered into partnership with Doctor Heard‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe‚Äôs a man of some age and is giving up the practice soon‚ÅÝ‚Äîout there at Waterfield on the main road. I shouldn‚Äôt have come here but I‚Äôve been doing some work on the parathyroid glands, and that meant being near Masters in London or Hudson here in Gatford. So I came here to work with Hudson. You‚Äôll have heard of him?‚Äù
“I’m afraid I haven’t,” she said, smiling back at him. “It’s terrible, but you people do the most wonderful things and we never hear anything about you.”
He stroked his long bony face. “I suppose that is so, though I can’t complain myself because I haven’t done anything wonderful yet. But how did you come to be here? I never knew you had any inclinations towards the stage.”
She laughed. “I hadn’t and I haven’t. It’s all rather ridiculous, though I must say it doesn’t seem very funny just now.” And she told him, briefly, what had happened since her father died. Sometimes he stared at her in blank amazement, and sometimes he gave a little low chuckle. It made her feel as if she were describing a visit to the moon.
“And now,” she concluded, “don’t ask me what I’m going to do, because I don’t know.”
“I do. You’re going to stay here until that arm’s mended and you’ve had a nice rest and your nerves are quiet again.” He still called them “nairrves.” He still brought out those huge vowels and smashing consonants, and when he turned his face towards the light there was still that glint of hair about his cheekbones. “And if there’s anything that must be done, let me do it for you.”
“Oh, I can’t worry you with my silly affairs. I’m sure you’ve plenty to do, too much, as it is.”
‚ÄúNot at all. I don‚Äôt say I haven‚Äôt plenty to do‚ÅÝ‚Äîwe‚Äôre always busy you know‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut still an old bachelor like me has time for anything.‚Äù
“You haven’t married then?”
“No.” He stopped, and fingered his chin. “Up to now, I seem to have been too busy. It’s a thing that takes time, I suppose, getting married.”
“Well, you mustn’t call yourself an old bachelor, not to me. You see, I happen to remember you’re only two years older than I am, and I don’t want to be told I’m old too.”
“Two years older! That’s it exactly. Now who’d have thought you would have remembered that!” he cried, lighting up and altogether more animated now. “You’ve as good a memory as I have.”
“I remember some things very well.”
‚ÄúOch, so do I.‚Äù He was charging in quite recklessly now, without thinking where he might be going. ‚ÄúI‚Äôve never heard a mention of that old rock of Gibraltar without thinking of you‚ÅÝ‚Äîand the Colonel,‚Äù he added, hastily.
“Which of us reminds you of Gibraltar?” she inquired, laughing at him. “Not me, I hope. It must have been my father. I think you were always rather frightened of him.”
“Of the Colonel! Not the least bit. It was you I was frightened of, if you must know.”
“Me!” This was too absurd. A memory of that large, masterful, dogmatic young Scot, setting her right about everything, suddenly invaded her mind. “I’m sure that’s not true. I never knew anybody who bullied me quite so much.”
“Ay, I was raw then, a raw lad.”
Tea came in at that moment. “I’ve brought a cup for Doctor McFarlane,” the girl remarked, setting down her tray by the side of the bed.
“Thank you,” said Miss Trant. “You will stay, won’t you? You’ll have to pour it out for both of us, I’m afraid. I can’t manage it with this arm all tied up.”
If she imagined he would be very awkward and clumsy with the teapot, she was wrong. He did it all very deftly indeed, and she noticed now‚ÅÝ‚Äîand this was a new discovery‚ÅÝ‚Äîthat his long bony hands were very finely controlled, sensitive. And then‚ÅÝ‚Äîit came in a flash while she was finishing her first piece of bread-and-butter‚ÅÝ‚Äîshe suddenly felt how incredible it was that he should be actually there, the whole enormous lump of him, so tremendously like himself, quietly sharing her tea. And yet one part of her, so small and remote that it could not be said to have a voice, refused to see anything incredible in all this, would not even be faintly surprised, but settled itself down, as if this were the natural order of things. They talked easily now, chiefly about the present, Gatford and the Good Companions, and so forth. The afternoon, itself a pale flower of the early spring, filled the room with washed and delicate light, called out anew the scent of the daffodil and narcissus, and was ecstatically busy with rumours of a fragrant and budding world outside.
‚ÄúAnd will you be going on with this‚ÅÝ‚Äîer‚ÅÝ‚Äîstage business?‚Äù he asked her. When he saw her smile a little ruefully and shake her head, his face cleared. ‚ÄúThere‚Äôs nothing wrong with it, of course,‚Äù he continued, ‚Äúbut it seems a daft sort of thing for somebody like yourself to be doing.‚Äù
‚ÄúThe moment they can get on without me, I shall give it up,‚Äù she confessed. ‚ÄúIt‚Äôs been‚ÅÝ‚Äîwell, fun, if you like. Anyhow, I wouldn‚Äôt have missed it for anything. But for some time now I‚Äôve been thinking I ought to give it up. You see, to begin with, it‚Äôs impossible for me to take it seriously‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúI should think not,‚Äù cried Dr.¬ÝMcFarlane heartily, with the air of a man to whom a troupe of pierrots are no more than so many buzzing flies.
“But that’s not fair to them, you see. It’s their world, their life. I don’t want to let them down now. It looked as if everything was going to be splendid. We were making money, and I was getting back all I’d lost. The clever young ones all thought they might get engagements in town, because some big revue man came down on Saturday to see them.”
“Was the row too much for him?”
‚ÄúOh no, worse than that. It‚Äôs a miserable business for them, poor dears‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut it‚Äôs rather funny. I can‚Äôt help laughing. It seems he came and got mixed up somehow in a dreadful scrimmage in the audience, and Joe, who didn‚Äôt know who he was and probably didn‚Äôt care, having thoroughly lost his temper, hit this man terribly hard, so hard that he had to be carried out.‚Äù
“Well, well! A knockout, eh? I wouldn’t have thought an actor-laddie could have done that.”
‚ÄúYes, but then Joe was once a heavyweight boxer‚ÅÝ‚Äîin the Navy.‚Äù
‚ÄúAh!‚Äù said Dr.¬ÝMcFarlane, who apparently knew something about heavyweight boxers in the Navy. ‚ÄúHe might well do that then.‚Äù
‚ÄúAnd now they‚Äôre all heartbroken, though they pretend not to be when they come here to see me. The young ones feel they have lost their chance, and one of them, Jerningham, seems to have disappeared. Nobody has seen him since Saturday night. One of the older ones‚ÅÝ‚ÄîMr.¬ÝNunn, the comedian‚ÅÝ‚Äîhas his head bandaged up and won‚Äôt be fit to act for a week or two. And the others don‚Äôt know what is going to happen to them. We had taken the Hippodrome for another week, but of course we couldn‚Äôt play in it even if it were fit to use.‚Äù
“It certainly isn’t that, from what I hear,” he said grimly.
“That’s the awful thing,” she told him. “I’m responsible for all that damage.”
He stared at her in horror and dismay. “You mean they’ll come on to you to pay for all that?”
‚ÄúI believe so. The Hippodrome people are going to claim it all from me. It‚Äôs a wicked shame because it wasn‚Äôt our fault at all, and we‚Äôve already suffered for it. And just as I thought I should get back most of the money I‚Äôd lost, this comes along. Oh, it‚Äôs a miserable business. And the others are absolutely heartbroken about it. They feel it‚Äôs their fault, though it isn‚Äôt at all, of course. It‚Äôs mine, if it‚Äôs anybody‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Don’t pay a penny piece,” he cried, rising from his chair. Because a man has been working hard on parathyroid glands, and in addition has contrived to remember a girl he once knew on a voyage years ago, that does not mean that he cannot be appalled at the thought of good money being paid out like that. It was a prospect to make hundreds of McFarlanes turn in their graves. It now made this McFarlane stride up and down the room. “You’ve heard nothing definite yet?” he asked, finally.
“No, not yet,” she replied, smiling rather wanly. She suddenly felt tired now.
He stopped, looked at her, then quietly sat down again. “You’re tired now, Elizabeth?” he said, not taking his eyes off her face.
It coloured faintly. “I believe I am.”
“Should I have said ‘Miss Trant’?”
“No, of course not,” returning his steady look with wide candid grey eyes.
“Too much talking. It’s my fault.”
‚ÄúThen I shall have to report you to Doctor Mason, Hugh. But don‚Äôt go for a minute. Let me talk a little longer and then I shall feel better. What do you think I ought to do? I had thought of asking my brother-in-law‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe‚Äôs a solicitor in town‚ÅÝ‚Äîto come up and try and straighten it all out for me, but he and Hilda, my sister, are in the South of France. And even if they weren‚Äôt, somehow I don‚Äôt want the family here, crowing over me. Then I thought of asking Mr.¬ÝTruby, he‚Äôs my own solicitor at Cheltenham, to see what he could do, but he‚Äôs‚ÅÝ‚Äîwell, I don‚Äôt feel he‚Äôd be much good. He probably thinks I‚Äôm mad.‚Äù
‚ÄúIf it‚Äôs a matter of taking to the law, I don‚Äôt mean in court, but just being represented, then a local man is what you want, a man who knows what goes on in this town. I know a solicitor here‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe‚Äôs a patient of mine‚ÅÝ‚Äîof the name of Gooch, a fat fellow but sharp as a needle. I‚Äôll go and talk to him about it, and do what I can myself at the same time. And all you‚Äôve got to do is to lie here quietly, not seeing your actor friends too often, just making your mind easy, reading a book or two‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù He broke off, and regarded her quizzically. ‚ÄúDo you still devote yourself to those romances and historical novels you used to like so well?‚Äù
‚ÄúYes. I don‚Äôt read quite so many as I used to do‚ÅÝ‚Äîthere aren‚Äôt enough good ones to go on with‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut I haven‚Äôt tired yet.‚Äù
“Do you remember my telling you I thought them awful trash? I was raw then, if ever a lad was. I’ve been ploughing my way through Walter Scott whiles, and there’s a great deal of human nature in those Waverley Novels of his. He’d have made a fine general practitioner, Sir Walter would.”
“There! You’re coming on, Hugh.”
He gave a short confused laugh. “No, I’m going on. I’ll be looking in tomorrow if I can at all. If not, the next day for certain. That is, if you would like to see me.”
‚ÄúOf course I should like to see you. I didn‚Äôt think, though, you‚Äôd be able to get here again as early as that. Is‚ÅÝ‚Äîer‚ÅÝ‚Äîyour patient here worse?‚Äù
“Ay,” he replied, with only the ghost of a twinkle to show that a joke was in progress, “poor fellow, he seems to have taken a turn for the worse since this afternoon. So he’ll need an early return visit.” He rose and took her hand. “It’s been a strange meeting this. I didn’t think you’d have remembered.”
“It was clever of you to recognize me at once, like that, when I was asleep too.”
Having brought off one joke, there was no holding him now. “I won’t say I remembered your face, Miss Elizabeth Trant,” he said solemnly, “but from the way you were lying, the sterno-mastoid muscle was prominent, and I thought I remembered the look of that.”
‚ÄúWhat! Where? You don‚Äôt‚ÅÝ‚ÄîOh, I see. You are absurd. Very well, Doctorrr H‚Äëew McFarrrlane, it was your terrible accent‚ÅÝ‚Äîan‚Äô only that‚ÅÝ‚Äîah remembered. Goodbye, Hugh. And if you can do anything to prevent me from having to throw all my money away here in Gatford, I shall be awfully grateful.‚Äù
Looking very grave again, at the thought of money being thrown away, he stood before her and declared with emphasis that he would do something about it. He was wearing a good suit‚ÅÝ‚Äîand was a far smarter figure than the bony young man she had known before‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut it wanted brushing in places and there were one or two deplorable little stains and burns here and there. And his tie, of course, was monstrous. But greying hair suited him; he was almost handsome now.
“Fancy Doctor McFarlane being such an old friend!” cried the nurse afterwards. She was removing things very deftly, but as she spoke she kept an eye on her patient’s face. Her duties compelled her to see life chiefly in terms of that rickety machine, the body, so it is not surprising that her hobby should have been human interest. Her next “Fancy!,” which was not long in coming, had quite a note of triumph in it. Evidently things were looking up in the Mirland Nursing Home.