ii

nurse o’brien rustled out of mrs. welman’s bedroom and into the bathroom. she said over hershoulder:

“i’ll just pop the kettle on. you could do with a cup of tea before you go on, i’m sure, nurse.”

nurse hopkins said comfortably:

“well, dear, i can always do with a cup of tea. i always say there’s nothing like a nice cup of tea—a strong cup!”

nurse o’brien said as she filled the kettle and lit the gas ring:

“i’ve got everything here in this cupboard—teapot and cups and sugar—and edna brings me upfresh milk twice a day. no need to be forever ringing bells. ’tis a fine gas ring, this; boils a kettlein a flash.”

nurse o’brien was a tall red-haired woman of thirty with flashing white teeth, a freckled faceand an engaging smile. her cheerfulness and vitality made her a favourite with her patients. nursehopkins, the district nurse who came every morning to assist with the bed making and toilet ofthe heavy old lady, was a homely-looking middle-aged woman with a capable air and a briskmanner.

she said now approvingly:

“everything’s very well-done in this house.”

the other nodded.

“yes, old-fashioned, some of it, no central heating, but plenty of fires and all the maids are veryobliging girls and mrs. bishop looks after them well.”

nurse hopkins said:

“these girls nowadays—i’ve no patience with ’em—don’t know what they want, most of them—and can’t do a decent day’s work.”

“mary gerrard’s a nice girl,” said nurse o’brien. “i really don’t know what mrs. welmanwould do without her. you saw how she asked for her now? ah, well, she’s a lovely creature, iwill say, and she’s got a way with her.”

nurse hopkins said:

“i’m sorry for mary. that old father of hers does his best to spite the girl.”

“not a civil word in his head, the old curmudgeon,” said nurse o’brien. “there, the kettle’ssinging. i’ll wet the tea as soon as it comes to the boil.”

the tea was made and poured, hot and strong. the two nurses sat with it in nurse o’brien’sroom next door to mrs. welman’s bedroom.

“mr. welman and miss carlisle are coming down,” said nurse o’brien. “there was a telegramcame this morning.”

“there now, dear,” said nurse hopkins. “i thought the old lady was looking excited aboutsomething. it’s some time since they’ve been down, isn’t it?”

“it must be two months and over. such a nice young gentleman, mr. welman. but very proud-looking.”

nurse hopkins said:

“i saw her picture in the tatler the other day—with a friend at newmarket.”

nurse o’brien said:

“she’s very well-known in society, isn’t she? and always has such lovely clothes. do you thinkshe’s really good-looking, nurse?”

nurse hopkins said:

“difficult to tell what these girls really look like under their makeup! in my opinion, she hasn’tgot anything like the looks mary gerrard has!”

nurse o’brien pursed her lips and put her head on one side.

“you may be right now. but mary hasn’t got the style!”

nurse hopkins said sententiously:

“fine feathers make fine birds.”

“another cup of tea, nurse?”

“thank you, nurse. i don’t mind if i do.”

over their steaming cups the women drew a little closer together.

nurse o’brien said:

“an odd thing happened last night. i went in at two o’clock to settle my dear comfortably, as ialways do, and she was lying there awake. but she must have been dreaming, for as soon as i gotinto the room she said, ‘the photograph. i must have the photograph.’

“so i said, ‘why, of course, mrs. welman. but wouldn’t you rather wait till morning?’ and shesaid, ‘no, i want to look at it now.’ so i said, ‘well, where is this photograph? is it the one of mr.

roderick you’re meaning?’ and she said, ‘roder-ick? no. lewis.’ and she began to struggle, andi went to lift her and she got out her keys from the little box beside her bed and told me to unlockthe second drawer of the tallboy, and there, sure enough, was a big photograph in a silver frame.

such a handsome man. and ‘lewis’ written across the corner. old-fashioned, of course, must havebeen taken many years ago. i took it to her and she held it there, staring at it a long time. and shejust murmured. ‘lewis—lewis.’ then she sighed and gave it to me and told me to put it back. andwould you believe it, when i turned round again she’d gone off as sweetly as a child.”

nurse hopkins said:

“was it her husband, do you think?”

nurse o’brien said:

“it was not! for this morning i asked mrs. bishop, careless- like, what was the late mr.

welman’s first name, and it was henry, she told me!”

the two women exchanged glances. nurse hopkins had a long nose, and the end of it quivereda little with pleasurable emotion. she said thoughtfully:

“lewis—lewis. i wonder, now. i don’t recall the name anywhere round these parts.”

“it would be many years ago, dear,” the other reminded her.

“yes, and, of course, i’ve only been here a couple of years. i wonder now—”

nurse o’brien said:

“a very handsome man. looked as though he might be a cavalry officer!”

nurse hopkins sipped her tea. she said:

“that’s very interesting.”

nurse o’brien said romantically:

“maybe they were boy and girl together and a cruel father separated them….”

nurse hopkins said with a deep sigh:

“perhaps he was killed in the war….”