On the Wednesday evening Richard took tea at the Crabtree, so that he might go down by train to Parson's Green direct from Charing1 Cross. The coffee-room was almost empty of customers; and Miss Roberts, who appeared to be in attendance there, was reading in the "cosy2 corner," an angle of the room furnished with painted mirrors and a bark bench of fictitious3 rusticity4.
"What are you doing up here?" he asked, when she brought his meal. "Aren't you cashier downstairs any longer?"
"Oh, yes," she said, "I should just think I was. But the girl that waits in this room, Miss Pratt, has her half-holiday on Wednesdays, and I come here, and the governor takes my place downstairs. I do it to oblige him. He's a gentleman, he is. That polite! I have my half-holiday on Fridays."
"Well, if you've nothing else to do, what do you say to pouring out my tea for me?"
"Can't you pour it out yourself? Poor thing!" She smiled pityingly, and began to pour out the tea.
"Sit down," Richard suggested.
"No, thank you," she said. "There! If it isn't sweet enough, you can put another lump in yourself;" and she disappeared behind the screen which hid the food-lift.
Presently he summoned her to make out his check. He was debating whether to tell her that Mr. Aked was ill. Perhaps if he did so she might request to be informed how the fact concerned herself. He decided5 to say nothing, and was the more astonished when she began:
"Did you know Mr. Aked was very ill?"
"Yes. Who told you?"
"Why, I live near him, a few doors away—didn't I tell you once?—and their servant told ours."
"Told your servant?"
"Yes," said Miss Roberts, reddening a little, and with an inflection which meant, "I suppose you thought my family wouldn't have a servant!"
"Oh!" He stopped a moment, and then an idea came to him. "It must have been you who called last night to inquire!" He wondered why Adeline had been so curt6 with her.
"Were you there then?"
"Oh, yes. I know the Akeds pretty well."
"The doctor says he'll not get better. What do you think?"
"I'm afraid it's a bad lookout7."
"Very sad for poor Miss Aked, isn't it?" she said, and something in the tone made Richard look up at her.
"Yes," he agreed.
"Of course you like her?"
"I scarcely know her—it's the old man I know," he replied guardedly.
"Well, if you ask me, I think she's a bit stand-offish."
"Perhaps that's only her manner."
"You've noticed it too, have you?"
"Not a bit. I've really seen very little of her."
"Going down again to-night?"
"I may do."
Nothing had passed between Adeline and himself as to his calling that day, but when he got to Carteret Street she evidently accepted his presence as a matter of course, and he felt glad. There was noting in her demeanour to recall the scene of the previous night. He did not stay long. Mr. Aked's condition was unchanged. Adeline had watched by him all day, while the nurse slept, and now she confessed to an indisposition.
"My bones ache," she said, with an attempt to laugh, "and I feel miserable8, though under the circumstances there's nothing strange in that."
He feared she might be sickening towards influenza9, caught from her uncle, but said nothing, lest he should alarm her without cause. The next day, however, his apprehension10 was justified11. On his way to the house in the evening he met the doctor at the top of Carteret Street and stopped him.
"You're a friend of Mr. Aked's, eh?" the doctor said, examining Richard through his gold-rimmed spectacles. "Well, go and do what you can. Miss Aked is down with the influenza now, but I don't think it will be a severe attack if she takes care. The old fellow's state is serious. You see, he has no constitution, though perhaps that's scarcely a disadvantage in these cases; but when it comes to double basic pneumonia12, with fever, and cardiac complications, pulse 140, respiration13 40, temperature 103 to 104, there's not a great deal of chance. I've got a magnificent nurse, though, and she'll have her hands full. We ought really to send for another one, especially as Miss Aked wants looking after too.... Bless you," he went on, in answer to a question from Richard, "I can't say. I injected strychnia this morning, and that has given relief, but he may die during the night. On the other hand he may recover. By the way, they seem to have no relations, except a cousin of Mr. Aked's who lives in the north. I've wired to her. Good evening. See what you can do. I'm due in my surgery in two minutes."
Richard introduced himself to the nurse, explained that he had seen the doctor, and asked if he could render assistance. She was a slender girl of about twenty-three, with dark, twinkling eyes and astonishingly small white ears; her blue uniform, made of the same print as a servant's morning-dress, fitted without a crease14, and her immense apron15 was snowy. On one linen16 cuff17 was a stain; she noticed this while talking to Richard, and adroitly18 reversed the wristband under his very gaze.
"I suppose you know the Akeds pretty well?" she questioned.
"Well, pretty well," he answered.
"Do you know any friends of theirs, women, who happen to live near?"
"I feel fairly sure they have practically no acquaintances. I have never met any people here."
"It is very awkward, now that Miss Aked is taken ill."
The mention of Adeline gave him an opportunity to make more particular inquiries19 as to her condition.
"There is nothing to be afraid of," the nurse said, "only she must stay in bed and keep quite quiet."
"I fancied last night she looked ill," he said sagely20.
"You were here last night?"
"Yes, and the night before."
"Oh! I wasn't aware—" The nurse stopped a moment. "Pardon me, if I am indiscreet, but are you engaged to Miss Aked?"
"No," said Richard shortly, uncertain whether or not he was blushing. The nurse's eyes twinkled, but otherwise her impassive gravity suffered no diminishment. "Not at all," he added. "I am merely a friend, anxious to do anything I can."
"I will get you to do some marketing21 for me," she decided suddenly. "The maid is sitting with Mr. Aked—he's a little easier for the moment—and Miss Aked, I think, is asleep. If I give you a list, can you discover the shops? I am quite ignorant of this neighbourhood."
Richard thought he could discover the shops.
"In the meantime I will have a bath. I have had no rest worth mentioning for twenty-four hours, and I want freshening up. Don't come back for twenty minutes, or there will be no one to let you in. Stay, I will give you the latch-key." It was attached to her chatelaine.
Equipped with written orders and a sovereign, he went out. Though he was away barely a quarter of an hour, she was dressed and downstairs again when he came in, her face as radiant as if she had just risen. She counted the change, and checked the different purchases with the list. Richard had made no mistakes.
"Thank you," she said very formally. He had expected a little praise.
"Is there anything else I can do?" he asked, determined22 not to weary in good works, however coldly his efforts were received.
"I think you might sit with Mr. Aked for a while," she said; "I must positively23 give some attention to Miss Aked, and half an hour's rest would not harm me. See, there are some slippers24; would you mind taking off your boots and putting those on instead? Thank you. You may talk to Mr. Aked if he talks to you, and let him hold your hand—he'll probably want to. Let him have just a sip25 of the brandy and milk I will give you, whenever he asks for it. Don't mind if he grumbles26 at everything you do. Try to soothe27 him. Remember he is very seriously ill. Shall I take you upstairs?"
She looked at Richard and then at the door; and Richard, hesitating for a fraction of a second, stepped past her to open it. He managed it awkwardly because he had never done such a thing for a lady in his life, nor could he quite understand what mysterious prompting had led him to be so punctilious28 now. The nurse bowed acknowledgment and preceded him to the sick-room. He felt as a student feels just before the examination papers are handed round.
A smell of ............