"Won't you and Miss Jason make your home there?"
Guy Brenton's scarcely concealed surprise at the question showed Felicity how he must have forgotten her presence. "No, that is not our intention." He looked down at the folded paper on his lap and it seemed as if he had meant to put an abrupt stop to the conversation, but suddenly he spoke again and this time he directly addressed her. "Miss Jason doesn't care for the country, London has always been her home, she doesn't like country life and I don't think she'd ever adapt herself."
"I see." Felicity spoke briefly while she sought for suitable words. "I suppose it could be dull if you'd not been brought up to it."
"I'd like to get down there for a bit now-I'm no use in town, to myself or anyone else." He gave an ironical laugh. "The maimed animal's instinct to hide itself."
With a courage she had not believed herself to possess, Felicity found herself giving voice to the thoughts which for so long had trembled on her lips. "You are taking the wrong attitude-ever since your accident it's been the same-you've given up fighting, you are determined that your arm will never return to normal, you don't sleep, you don't eat, you've just resigned yourself to the worst, it's wrong and it's cowardly!" Felicity was aware of the tumultuous beating of her heart. Surely that hadn't been her voice speaking? She couldn't have so far forgotten herself! Rigid with apprehension, she stared at her companion, waiting for the storm which she felt must engulf her.
Whatever she had expected it was certainly not silence, a tense frightening silence, while she tried in vain to read the enigmatic expression in the eyes which met and held hers. "So that is what you believe?"
The words were quietly spoken and seemed to Felicity more shattering than any storm. With a tremendous effort she turned away but as she moved from the window she was aware of her companion's detaining hold on her arm. That momentary courage had left her as suddenly as it had appeared, her knees felt like water, yet with all the dignity she could muster, she turned again to face him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, it's not my affair, I should have kept my opinions to myself."
"Sit down."
The words were in the nature of a command but Felicity was only too glad to comply. She felt utterly exhausted and, at that moment, would have given anything to retract her thoughtless outburst.
"I imagine that you have been thinking this for some time? So that is how you really feel about your patient?" There was an inscrutable smile playing round the corners of his lips as he asked the question.
Felicity longed to believe that the smile was not just the forerunner of a spate of scathing words. Still, whatever the outcome she knew there was no turning back now, so with an assurance she was far from feeling, she answered: "I've told you how I feel, I can't take that back but I've also apologized, so please let it go at that." There was a note of pleading in her voice.
"Surely you don't want to leave matters as they are. You deplore my attitude, then it is up to you to remedy it."
"You mean that you don't resent my criticism? Please try to understand, I do know how awful it is for you. Everything that's worth while must depend on your complete recovery-whatever happens you must persevere and use your hand. It's too early to know, so it's wrong to despair yet. You aren't giving yourself a chance-meantime, stop worrying and let yourself get well again, then at least you'll be able to face facts"-she forced a smile-"always assuming there are any facts to face!" she concluded in a lighter vein.
"Of course you are right." The words were slowly and quietly spoken and there was an unmistakable friendliness in the smile which curved his lips and brought a twinkle to the deep-set eyes. For a moment his hand rested on hers where they lay clasped-tightly on her lap. "I'll bear in mind what you say. Sorry I haven't done you credit as a patient, but then you see, you should have berated me sooner!
"I should have done with any other patient," Felicity admitted, her cheeks dimpling into a smile. "I've never nursed a member of the medical profession before, it isn't so easy, one's scope seems so limited!"
"I hadn't thought of that, I suppose it is somewhat disarming." His eyes twinkled again. "From now on I'll be a model patient. How do we start? Shall I begin by attempting to finish that extremely unappetizing breakfast?"
Felicity rose to her feet and looked down laughingly at her companion. "I won't ask you to do that, but I suggest you make an extra effort with your lunch and-rather more important-persevere with those fingers, don't give in, try to use them."
Felicity felt with some elation that she had certainly emerged from the interview with flying colours. It had been a harassing ordeal but if she had managed to rouse Guy Brenton from the state of depression into which he had sunk, then it would have been well worth while. If only his fiancée e hadn't been so absorbed in her own affairs, she could have done much towards encouraging him herself. His other visitors had been largely fellow medical men who had no doubt kept strictly off the subject of his injury, but for Alaine it should have been easy.
In spite of her elation there remained an underlying feeling of disappointment that she would not be able to see the good which might result from her efforts. Soon he would go down to his home in Buckinghamshire and his progress would no longer be any concern of hers. Engrossed in her thoughts, the hours passed rapidly and when Alaine Jason appeared in the corridor leading to the ward, Felicity realized that it must be close on tea-time.
"Hallo." Alaine waved her hand airily.
"Good afternoon, would you like me to get you some tea while you're with Mr. Brenton?"
"Not for me-I'm not stopping." Alaine flashed a smile at Felicity. "I've already seen Guy, I came along early, I didn't see you anywhere around so I went along in." She paused, then, apparently choosing her words carefully, added:
"I want to talk to you-there is something I must say, I haven't very long, is there somewhere private where we can go?"
"Sister's office is available." Felicity led the. way and threw open the door. She hoped that her voice sounded cordial but she didn't feel in the least like a prolonged talk with Alaine Jason.
"I knew that once Guy was out of bed he'd get restless- he tells me that this afternoon he arranged with Mr. MacFarlayne to go home to convalesce."
"He mentioned it to me this morning," Felicity admitted. "I knew he meant to discuss it with the surgeon but I haven't spoken to Mr. Brenton since then." Felicity sincerely hoped there was no apparent, sign of despondency in her tone.
"Guy is leaving the day after tomorrow." Alaine gave a short laugh. "I'm not too pleased about it, I can't run down to Buckinghamshire every five minutes. I may be able to get down at week-ends but that's about all." With a restless movement she flung off her furs and delved in her handbag for the inevitable cigarette.
"You wanted to ask me something?" Felicity began tentatively as she pulled up a chair for her visitor and seated herself at the desk.
Ignoring the chair, Alaine crossed restlessly to the window, stared out in silence for a moment, then turned back to confront her companion. "I am in a bit of a jam, I want you to help me."
"I don't quite understand, of course if there's anything-"
"There is something-something important!" Alaine broke in impatiently. "You'll be packing for Guy, won't you? I mean you'll be getting his things together for him?"
"I suppose so." Felicity laughed lightly, she couldn't help it, Alaine instilled such drama into the most trivial words. "He hasn't got much to pack, just his pyjamas and dressing-gown, shaving tackle and oddments which his secretary sent over after the accident and of course the suit and overcoat he was wearing when he arrived."
"That's it!" Alaine exclaimed vehemently as she stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette. "You remember telling me that occasionally shock will cause people to forget what happened before an accident? You explained that sometimes memory never comes back, you do remember, don't you?"
"Yes, that is quite right," Felicity agreed with some curiosity.
"Guy doesn't remember a thing about it, I've realized that from the first, he asks me such odd questions, I know he hasn't the remotest idea of that evening's happenings, they seem to be entirely blotted out. He didn't even recall where we were when the car crashed, where we were going and hadn't any idea where we had been. I reminded him about the cocktail party but I could see it didn't convey much and although I have brought it up since, not one single memory of that evening remains."