Читать книгу Мертвая комната. Уровень 2 / The Dead Secret - Уилки Коллинз, Elizabeth Cleghorn - Страница 9

Mr. and Mrs. Frankland started from London on the ninth of May, and stopped at the station of a small town in Somersetshire. A robust boy entered this world a month earlier, and preferred to make his first appearance in a small Somersetshire inn.

Young Mr. Orridge, the new doctor, felt a thrill of pleasurable agitation when he heard that the wife of a blind gentleman of great fortune required all his skill and attention. There were a dozen different reports about Mr. Frankland's blindness, and the cause of it.

So at eight o'clock in the evening the child was born, and Mr. Orridge performed his duties.

On the next day, and the next, and for a week after that, the accounts were favorable. But on the tenth day a catastrophe was reported. The nurse was suddenly ill.

Mr. Frankland telegraphed to a friend in London for a nurse, but the doctor was against that plan, except as a last resource. He wanted to find the right person here. But Mr. Orridge met with no success. He found plenty of volunteers, but they were all loud-voiced, clumsy-handed, heavy-footed countrywomen, kind and willing enough, but sadly awkward.

At two o'clock Mr. Orridge went to a country-house where he had a child-patient to see. “Perhaps I may remember somebody who may be the right person,” thought Mr. Orridge, as he got into his gig. “I have some hours at my disposal still, before the time comes for my evening visit at the inn.”

He thought about Mrs. Norbury. She was frank, good-humored, middle-aged woman. Her husband was a country squire. Mr. Orridge asked Mrs. Norbury to help him to find a good nurse, as she was an old resident in the West Winston neighborhood.

“You mean,” answered Mrs. Norbury, “have I heard about that poor unfortunate lady who had a child born at the inn? How is the lady? Who is she? Is the child well? Is she comfortable? Can I send her anything, or do anything for her?”

“You can do a great thing for her, and render a great assistance to me,” said Mr. Orridge, “if you tell me of any respectable woman in this neighborhood – a proper nurse for her.”

“You don't mean to say that the poor creature has not got a nurse!” exclaimed Mrs. Norbury.

“She has had the best nurse in West Winston,” replied Mr. Orridge. “But, most unfortunately, the woman was taken ill this morning, and went home.”

“Frankland, did you say her name was?” inquired Mrs. Norbury.

“Yes. She is, I understand, a daughter of that Captain Treverton who was lost with his ship a year ago in the West Indies. Perhaps you may remember the account of the disaster in the newspapers?”

“Of course I do! And I remember the Captain too. I was acquainted with him when he was a young man, at Portsmouth. But who is with Mrs. Frankland now?”

“Her maid; but she is a very young woman, and doesn't understand nursing duties. The landlady of the inn is ready to help when she can. I suppose we shall telegraph to London and get somebody by railway.”

“And that will take time, of course. And the new nurse may be a drunkard or a thief, or both,” said the Mrs. Norbury. “I am ready, I am sure, to take any trouble, or make any sacrifice, if I can be of use to Mrs. Frankland. Mr. Orridge, I think we will consult my housekeeper, Mrs. Jazeph. She is an odd woman, with an odd name; but she has lived with me in this house more than five years. She may know somebody in our neighborhood who can suit you, though I don't.”

With those words, Mrs. Norbury rang the bell. The housekeeper entered the room.

Mr. Orridge looked at her, with an interest and curiosity. She was woman of about fifty years of age. His medical eye detected that some of the intricate machinery of the nervous system went wrong with Mrs. Jazeph. He noted the painful working of the muscles of her face, and the hectic flush that flew into her cheeks when she entered the room and found a visitor there. He observed a strangely scared look in her eyes.

“This is Mr. Orridge, the medical gentleman who has lately settled at West Winston,” said Mrs. Norbury to the housekeeper. “He is in attendance on a lady[18] who stopped, on her journey westward, at our station, and who is now staying at the Tiger's Head Inn. You have heard something about it, have you not, Mrs. Jazeph?”

“Yes, ma'am,” said Mrs. Jazeph.

“Well,” continued Mrs. Norbury, “this poor lady needs a nurse for her child. Mr. Orridge can find nobody, and I can tell him of nobody. Can you help us, Mrs. Jazeph? Are there any women down in the village, or among Mr. Norbury's tenants, who understand nursing?”

Mrs. Jazeph reflected for a little while, and then said, very respectfully, but very briefly also, that she knew of no one whom she could recommend.

“Mr. Orridge told me just before you came in,” said Mrs. Norbury, “that she is the daughter of Captain Treverton, whose shipwreck – ”

Mrs. Jazeph looked at the doctor. She moved right hand so suddenly that it struck against a bronze statuette of a dog. The statuette fell to the ground.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Norbury. “The dog is not hurt – put it back again! Well, as I was saying, this lady is the daughter of Captain Treverton, whose dreadful shipwreck we all read about in the papers. I knew her father in my early days, and I am doubly anxious to be of service to her now. Think again. Is there anybody to nurse her? I am so anxious to help this poor lady through her difficulty, if I can.”

“I am very sorry,” said Mrs. Jazeph, “very sorry that I can think of no one who is fit; but – ”

She stopped.

“But what?” asked Mrs. Norbury.

“Ma'am,” answered Mrs. Jazeph, “I can nurse her if you allow.”

“What, nurse her yourself!” exclaimed Mrs. Norbury. “I see your kindness of heart and your readiness to make yourself useful. Of course I am not so selfish, under the circumstances, as to think twice of the inconvenience of losing my housekeeper. But have you ever had any practice in nursing?”

“Yes, ma'am,” answered Mrs. Jazeph. “Shortly after my marriage” (the flush disappeared, and her face turned pale again as she said those words), “I had some practice in nursing, and continued it at intervals until the time of my husband's death.”

“What do you say, Mr. Orridge?” asked Mrs. Norbury.

“I gratefully accept your kindness and your housekeeper's offer,” he said.

“Mr. Orridge accepts your offer with thanks,” said Mrs. Norbury.

A gleam of joyful surprise broke over the housekeeper's face.

“When will my attendance be required, Sir?” she asked.

“As soon as possible,” replied Mr. Orridge. “I suppose you have some preparations to make?” The doctor took his hat and bowed to Mrs. Norbury.

“Come to the Tiger's Head, and ask for me. I shall be there between seven and eight. Many thanks again, Mrs. Norbury.”

“My best wishes and compliments to your patient, doctor.”

“At the Tiger's Head, between seven and eight this evening,” reiterated Mr. Orridge, as the housekeeper opened the door for him.

“Between seven and eight, Sir,” repeated the soft, sweet voice.