Felicity ignored the crumpled packet lying on her lap as she glanced in dismay at her friend.
"Go on-don't be such a prig, you are much too conscientious," Diana protested.
Felicity was not at any time very keen on smoking, she never seized on a cigarette as Diana did; but, no doubt spurred to action by her friend's words, she drew one from the packet and leaned forward for Diana to light it.
"There, that's better, isn't it? Nothing like a whiff when one's tired and on edge." Diana expelled a cloud of smoke with satisfaction. "I should think you could do with a bit of soothing after a spell with Brenton, wasn't he awful today? I warned you, didn't I? We had three cases with him this morning and by the time he'd finished, we didn't know if we were on our heads or our heels!"
"He was pretty scathing to Sister-and poor Jones, she got a ticking off too," Felicity admitted.
"Oh well, I ought to be going." Diana turned towards the door. "I've locked up everything except the outer door; if I leave the keys with you, will you see to that? Pop them on the board in Matron's office as you go up to Mason's."
"All right-see you later." Felicity waited for her friend to disappear then glanced round the still disordered room. She certainly hadn't time to indulge in smoking, she couldn't enjoy it any way. Perhaps Diana had been right, she was too conscientious, she always tried to stick pretty rigidly to the rules, her troublesome conscience wouldn't allow otherwise. She had already turned towards the window with every intention of flinging away the cigarette when the sound of footsteps held her rooted to the spot. Who on earth could it be?-perhaps Diana was returning-perhaps a stray porter who had seen the outer door unlocked? She was not left long in doubt, Guy Brenton's appearance so quickly followed the warning sound of footsteps, that she still stood immobile as his figure blocked the doorway. Never had he seemed so tall, never so forbidding, yet she felt unable to move and only some warning instinct forced her to conceal the cigarette behind her back, although she knew full well that nothing on earth would, conceal the guilty flush which had mounted her cheeks.
"I came back for my wrist, watch-I wonder where I put it? I remember now, over there on the ledge." Apparently unaware of the shock his arrival had caused Felicity, he walked nonchalantly across the room, picked up his watch and began to strap it round his wrist. In fact he seemed scarcely aware of her presence and although miserably conscious of the wretched cigarette still burning between her fingers, Felicity was just beginning to breathe again when he turned to address her. Whatever he had been going to say died on his lips, and for a tense moment he stared at her in silence. Slowly his expression hardened and she knew there could be no further evasion. "Somewhat against rules smoking on duty, isn't it?"
Felicity nodded mutely, she felt utterly incapable of speech, wholly submerged in shame. Something akin to fear quickened her pulses. She had committed a flagrant breach of the rules, what would he say about it-what would he do?
"Such behaviour scarcely befits your position as Staff Nurse. I believe you are expected to set an example to your juniors, you are obviously not sufficiently reliable to hold a post of responsibility."
The stern criticism did nothing to temper Felicity's anxiety as she visualized the possible result of her thoughtless action. He'd tell Matron and she'd lose her job-the senior position for which she'd worked so hard for the past three years. Despairingly she scanned his face but she could detect no vestige of sympathy.
"I'm sorry," she faltered, then realizing the futility of any excuse or appeal, she lapsed again into silence. What a fool she'd been, what a complete fool. Even at this moment of her own dire predicament, she was deeply aware of Guy Brenton's magnetic attraction, of his dominant personality which threatened to submerge her, then, with a determination not to cringe but to match her strength with his, unfalteringly she met the steely penetration of his gaze and unconsciously tilting her chin a trifle higher, waited resolutely for him to speak. She tensed herself for the words she dreaded to hear and then-when he was about to speak, the door was pushed open and, to her horror and amazement, Theatre Sister stood on the threshold.
"Oh, Nurse Dene, I am looking for my Staff Nurse. I saw the outer door was unlocked, I thought she might still be here." She paused and sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose suspiciously. "What on earth..." she broke off in some confusion as, apparently for the first time, she perceived the surgeon's presence. "Oh-Mr. Brenton-I didn't see you at first-I'm sorry, sir, I was wondering if Nurse Weste was anywhere around."
Before Felicity had the remotest idea of Guy Brenton's intention, he had moved swiftly to her side and, to her alarm, she felt him draw the cigarette from between her nerveless fingers. Unconsciously she squared her shoulders preparing for the onslaught of words, then smothered the exclamation which had sprung to her lips as she saw him turn deliberately to the window and fling the cigarette outside.
"Sorry to be smoking in your sacred precincts, Sister," Guy Brenton gave a short laugh. "If I'd found any of the students smoking here I should be the first to censure them."
"It doesn't matter one bit, sir," Sister protested. "We've closed down for the day. Well, I must be running off. I'll see if Nurse Weste is over in the Home. Mind you lock up properly, Nurse Dene," she admonished as she disappeared.
The unexpected turn of events completely robbed Felicity of all initiative and for the moment she could only stare at her companion in silent perplexity. What did it all mean, why hadn't he said anything? Surely he hadn't been trying to cover up for her? The idea was too absurd, as if Guy Brenton were likely to do anything like that! It was completely out of character and quite unconsciously a mirthless smile played momentarily round her lips.
"You seemed amused." The words were rapped out and hardly served to add to Felicity's confidence.
"I'm not, would you be?" There was a ring of defiance in her voice and at that moment she found herself strangely indifferent to the consequences. Her previous good record gave her little experience of trouble but at least her action threw no discredit upon her work. She had never failed in any responsibility, and if a silly infringement of the rules was to cost her her position as Staff Nurse, then it was grossly unfair and a little further indiscretion hardly seemed to matter. "It isn't even as if I enjoyed smoking-but then Matron is hardly likely to take that into account."
"What has it got to do with Matron?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly.
Felicity, who had expected her show of defiance to be followed by some scathing comment which would completely rob her of her assumed bravado, was dumbfounded at the question-not only the question but the hint of a smile which had curved his lips, softening his whole expression. "I suppose you intend to report me to Matron?"
"I didn't say so, why jump to conclusions?" He turned towards the door as if tiring of the discussion, and now there was no mistaking the amusement underlying his words. "You anticipate trouble, all you nurses do that, cry out before you're hurt. They say there is no smoke without fire, perhaps it's lucky for you that you managed to display both!"
CHAPTER TWO
During the three years in which Felicity had studied as a nurse at St. Edwin's Hospital she had frequently found reason to recall a favourite maxim of her father's. Sir Frampton Dene, who had died when she was still in her teens, had always asserted that there was nothing on earth or in Heaven to which the human body could not eventually adjust itself. He had been deeply interested in geological research and Felicity now believed he must certainly have been referring to matters beyond her understanding for she had found .indisputably that however long she remained a nurse at St. Edwin's-or indeed anywhere else-her particular human body would never be able to accustom itself to getting up at the ungodly hour of six-thirty in the morning! This particular morning was no better than the hundreds of mornings that had gone before; her whole being revolted at the idea of throwing off the enveloping warmth of the bedclothes and with a guilty glance at her bedside clock, she snuggled down again for just those last few moments which she had never yet found strength to resist. It happened every morning, one day she'd just drop off to sleep again, she knew she would, and then the fat would be in the fire! That disturbing thought jogged Felicity into wakefulness and with a determined effort she raised her dark-lashed lids and fixed her eyes on the square of early morning light filtering through the window. Her loosened hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders framing in deep gold the smooth contour of her face, small-featured with a slightly tilted nose and provoking dimples at the corners of her lips, dimples which came and went as she laughed, reflecting the animation which laughter invariably brought to her azure blue eyes-eyes which at the moment were only concerned with the importance of keeping awake!