She must, of course, be in Guy Brenton's room and with some concern Felicity awaited her return. One or two of the night staff still lingered on the ward waiting to be relieved, as the day staff, one by one, made their appearance. With routine action Felicity commenced her work of the day, setting out Sister's desk, sorting the patients' mail... subconsciously she knew herself to be tensed and on edge as she awaited Sister Robinson's appearance. Why had Sister come on duty so early? Was anything wrong? Was Mr. Brenton worse? As on the previous night a thousand questions chased each other through her mind. Even the Night Report Book was missing, she might have gleaned something from that; Night Sister had perhaps not completed her entries or Sister Robinson must have it in her possession.
"Thank goodness you are early!"
Felicity had never been so glad to see Sister before, although when she glanced-up and saw the worried lines on her face, her heart sank. "Yes, Sister ... but you? I didn't expect to see you on duty yet."
"I had to see Matron..." Her words trailed away as she sank into the chair at her desk. "Pull up a chair, dear, I want to speak to you."
Felicity tried to control her quickened heart beats. Whatever could be wrong? Sister was always getting fussed up over nothing at all, Felicity was used to that, but somehow this morning there was real anxiety in the kindly expression of her grey eyes. "Yes, Sister, what is it?" Felicity made an effort to keep her voice steady.
"You went off duty at seven-thirty last night?" As Felicity nodded assent, Sister continued: "You knew Mr. MacFarlayne's orders were that Mr. Brenton was to be kept as quiet as possible and on no account to have visitors?"
"Of course," Felicity agreed,
"When Night Sister came on duty at eight, Mr. Brenton had a visitor, his fiancée had been with him almost an hour. Sister, not realizing that anyone was there, had not interrupted them. As you knew, he was utterly unfit to receive anyone; the visit left him completely exhausted, followed by a sharp rise of temperature."
"But, Sister-" Felicity protested, but before she could go on speaking, her companion interrupted her.
"There is no excuse. I know you were entitled to go off duty before Night Sister's arrival but you were in charge, and it was up to you to see that Nurse Bellamy had detailed instructions."
"I did, I told her exactly what Mr. MacFarlayne had said," Felicity insisted.
"I'm sorry, dear, but there it is." Sister gave a deep sigh. "It seems that Night Sister had to call Mr. Elver, and he phoned for Mr. MacFarlayne who came along about midnight. Naturally, Mr. MacFarlayne was very angry that his instructions had been ignored and he complained to Matron ... I saw Matron this morning. I explained that it had been my half-day but you may be sure that I spoke up for you as much as I could. She wants to see you." Sister Robinson paused. "I'm sorry, dear, I told her how reliable you always are, and I said I was confident it couldn't be your fault."
"I passed on Mr. MacFarlayne's instructions ... I may not have specifically mentioned visitors, I hardly thought anyone would come at that time of night, but in any case I imagined that instructions for complete quiet would cover any such contingency." There was a note of bitterness in Felicity's voice. The censure was so unexpected-and unusual-she couldn't recall any occasion during her three years at St. Edwin's when she had been brought to book for any neglect of duty. For Matron to send for her too, it was unbelievable, and a spasm of apprehension assailed her. Of course she would only get thoroughly lectured but that was something which she had so far managed to avoid and had hoped never to experience. Her apprehension turned to something approaching anger. So those were the methods of the suave Mr. MacFarlayne? To be all honey to one's face and to rush to Matron with complaints behind one's back! She'd rather have Guy Brenton to deal with any day, at least he expressed his complaints to one's face, he didn't hide his disapproval behind a bland, ingratiating smile.
"You know, dear, I'm as sorry about all this as you are." Sister Robinson gave Felicity's shoulder a reassuring pat. "Run along to Matron now and get it over."
When later Felicity returned from an uncomfortable half hour in Matron's office she was filled with a sense of burning resentment. Fundamentally, no doubt, the blame lay with the nurse with whom she had left instructions, but Felicity knew only too well that in fact the sister or nurse in charge invariably got the blame.
Owing to her delay in visiting Matron, Sister Robinson had taken over her duties and was apparently attending Mr. Brenton. Felicity was glad of the respite; in some peculiar way she wanted to defer the moment when she would have to enter his room, she'd hate to feel that any retrogression in his condition might be due to her, and whatever her personal ideas in the matter might be, Matron hadn't minced her words. Forcing a smile to hide the ache at her heart, Felicity made her way round the ward assisting and advising her juniors. The curious looks and whispers made it plain that every detail of the night's happenings was known by even the most junior 'pro.'. Felicity had no illusions, the whole story-elaborately embroidered-would be round the Hospital by dinner-time.
"Nurse ... can you spare a moment?" Felicity put down a tray of dressings she was holding and, giving instructions to her junior to carry on, followed Philip Elver into Sister's office. She hadn't even noticed his arrival on the ward, but she knew herself to be inordinately glad to see him, she longed to pour her troubles into sympathetic ears.
"Oh Philip, it's awful, have you heard?" she enquired anxiously as she carefully closed the office door.
Dropping the formal manner he had adopted on the ward, Philip Elvers seated himself on the edge of the desk. "I have and I'm devilish sorry. I wouldn't have sent for MacFarlayne if I'd realized what a song and dance he was going to kick up and how you'd get involved." He spoke ruefully.
"Don't be silly, you rang MacFarlayne because you needed his advice, you know perfectly well no other consideration counted. She paused. "The point is that, in spite of everything it wasn't really my fault; that fool Bellamy had full instructions-and as for his fiancée staying almost an hour ... I could cheerfully throttle her!"
I know ... but there it is and don't you go worrying about it. I saw Brenton at crack of dawn, he is still running a temperature, one expected that, but he had morphia in the night and he is much more rested. How does he seem now?"
"I haven't been in this morning, Sister took over while I went to Matron." She pulled a face. "Nice visit it was too; I was on, the carpet well and truly. I do resent Mr. MacFarlayne running to Matron with his complaints. I'm just boiling over about him-what time is he due to make his round? I wish I could miss him," she admitted fervently.
Philip glanced at his watch. "Any moment I should say." He broke off abruptly as Sister Robinson bustled into the room. Rising to his feet, he stood back at Felicity's side.
With a brief nod and smile to the young houseman, Sister turned to Felicity and addressed her in conspiratorial tones. "Interview with Matron go off all right?"
As the whole Hospital undoubtedly knew all by now, the secretive air seemed to Felicity somewhat unnecessary. "Yes, quite all right, thanks," she responded conventionally, inwardly wondering whether having felt like a naughty schoolgirl being given" a bad conduct mark, constituted being "all right".
Obviously glad to have that matter off her mind, Sister continued in brisker tones. "I've been attending Mr. Brenton, temperature is settling slowly, on the whole I think the dear is a little better."
Felicity, catching Philip's eye, had difficulty in stifling her laughter; she was glad that the necessity for answering the telephone afforded her an opportunity to turn away. Replacing the instrument she turned round. "Phoning from theatre, Mr. MacFarlayne is on his way up."
"Splendid! We'll get through nice and early and get Smith's plaster done before serving dinners. Now listen, Nurse, I'll take the round if you'll see to Mr. Brenton. I've made him all nice and comfy but there is his injection to give and perhaps you can manage to persuade the dear boy to take a little something-if it's only fluids-I'm sure a nice cup of tea would be very reviving."