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yRing for the Nurse(45)

By:Marjorie Moore


That momentary hesitation had proved that it was not easy for him to  touch on the subject of Alaine's departure. What the happenings of that  afternoon had meant to him she would never know. The shock of his  father's illness might, momentarily have swept all else from his mind,  but now it could only be part of the pain he was suffering so clearly  reflected in the drawn lines of his face and the deep shadows of  fatigue, beneath his eyes.                       
       
           



       

"I shall not go back with Tony," Felicity asserted firmly. Then, with  somewhat less assurance, added, "I shall leave St. Edwin's as I've  arranged. I'll have to go on nursing but I think I ought to make a  change. I'd like to get to some seaside or country hospital-somewhere  out of London." Even as she spoke she knew she was taking the biggest  gamble of her life. Now, she really stood at the parting of the ways and  by deliberate intent she had taken the road which would separate her  from Guy.

"I wonder-dare I ask you?" Guy looked straight at Felicity and his  unspoken need of her assurance was more than she could resist.

"Of course-ask me anything. Is there something you want me to do for  you?" She smiled encouragingly, aware again of that urge to go to his  side, to take his hands within her own and beg his confidence and make  him understand her longing to be of help.

"I was wondering-" he began tentatively, then paused, obviously finding  it difficult to frame his request. "When you leave at the end of the  week-if by then my father is well enough to go home, would you go back  with him? Just for a few weeks," he interposed quickly as if fearful of  her answer. Her hesitation must have been obvious and no doubt in an  endeavour to forestall a refusal he went on. "The old man is so fond of  you, it would make things so much easier for him to have you there,  he'll definitely need a nurse for some time after his return, and I,  also should have much more confidence knowing you were with him."

Weir Court in summer! Felicity nearly laughed aloud, the thought was so  ridiculous and irrelevant. Here she was actually thinking of the hills,  the fields and meadows, when the real issue was something which touched  the very foundations of her whole future. Wasn't she giving up St.  Edwin's her friends, her prospects, all in order to forget this man, and  now he dangled this temptation before her eyes and with all her soul  she longed to stretch out and grasp it. But after all, could just a few  weeks make any difference? Guy wouldn't even be there, just perhaps an  occasional day or so ... her heart-beats quickened as she found her  resolution weakening, and torn with her conflicting doubts Felicity  returned Guy's questioning glance, scarcely as yet daring to frame her  answer.

"I'm sorry-I should not have asked-" he began, but Felicity quickly interrupted.

"But, of course, I'll do as you want, I'd love to go down to Weir with  your father." The words seemed to Felicity to have issued from her lips  without conscious volition, but having spoken them she knew no regret.  Guy's obvious relief and pleasure entirely robbed her of any lingering  doubts she might have harboured as to the wisdom of her decision.

"I can't tell you what a load that is off my mind." He rose and crossed  to Felicity. "I can't thank you enough-but I do know that my father will  make up for my deficiencies in that direction." He smiled as he held  out his hand to assist her to her feet. "You look desperately tired. The  spare room is opposite my father's. Go and lie down, sleep as long as  you want. I'll square Matron in the morning."

Felicity was glad of Guy's supporting hand; the food and drink had  refreshed her but even mow she felt almost dazed with fatigue and as she  stood the room seemed to swing around her.



"You certainly are exhausted." He firmly linked an arm beneath hers and  led her along the corridor. At the bedroom door he paused. "You'll find a  dressing-gown of mine in the cupboard ." Again there was that note  of hesitation. "Tony apparently forgot his, left it hanging behind the  cabin door, so it's the one I lent him-wrap it round you and get some  sleep." He released his hold and letting his hand slide down her arm  held her fingers for a moment between his own, his expression showing  his solicitude, and a smile-almost tender-playing at the corners of his  lips. "Sleep well-and thank you with all my heart."

Later, when she sank into the sweet unconscious state of sleep, she  could still feel the touch of his hand and see that tender smile-but it  was different. In her dreams she had almost reached fulfilment, yet even  as she lifted her face for his kiss and felt his warm breath against  her cheek, the illusion was shattered and she woke to find a beam of  morning sunlight caressing her upturned face, while a playful breeze  from the opened bedroom window gently billowed the curtains and fanned  the golden tendrils of her hair.                       
       
           



       





CHAPTER TWENTY



Felicity slipped the airmail letter she had been reading back in its  envelope and resting her hands idly on her lap looked across the  sweeping lawns of Weir Court. The flower borders were now a riot of  colour and even from where she sat on the terrace the sweet scent of  roses assailed her nostrils, and all the country sounds she loved, the  call of birds, the lowing of cattle, the hum of bees as they flew from  flower to flower were as music in her ears.



The weeks she had spent nursing Colonel Brenton recalled the care-free  days of her childhood with her parents and Tony in Somerset. He was an  easy and charming patient, never failing to show his gratitude for her  attention and never lacking in courtesy and consideration. The severe  attack he had suffered had enfeebled him considerably. He was unlikely  ever to regain his former strength, but his progress was encouraging  and, without grumbling, he had resigned himself to the inevitable.  Felicity glanced at his recumbent figure lying on the long dicker chair  at her side. He was sleeping peacefully, and with gentle care, fearful  of disturbing him, she tucked the rug more closely across his knees.  Recently she had grown more and more fond of him, he seemed to have  taken the place of her own father and she found herself listening to his  opinion and seeking his advice. Her complete absorption in her work and  her ingrained love of country life soon banished the misgivings she had  harboured when she had first returned to Weir Court; it seemed  impossible to be anything but content and her troubles had been thrust  resolutely aside. Indeed there was very little now to trouble her. Both  Tony's and Alaine's letters from California positively exuded joy, and  Alaine was ecstatic about both her home and her surroundings. Felicity  sometimes wished she could have seen that home so vividly described by  her brother and now by Alaine. She would have loved a peep at the white  house and the orange groves on the hillside. Perhaps one day she'd get  her wish.

Felicity no longer felt any regret for having left St. Edwin's. Fate had  placed her here and like a straw in the wind she felt satisfied to be  blown willy-nilly as Fate decreed. St. Edwin's would have seemed strange  without Diana but now, her flirtations over, Diana was engaged to  Philip and it was only a matter of weeks before she would be giving up  her career to follow him to the Midlands, where he intended to settle  down and practise.

Guy's presence at Weir Court was her only problem, but his visits had  been rare and although his attitude towards her had been friendly, she  was never sorry to see him leave. Now that the formality demanded by  hospital etiquette no longer existed it made it more difficult than ever  for her to adopt a casual and composed air, and the anticipation of  each visit caused her both trepidation and doubt. Colonel Brenton's  demands upon her attention had made it easy for her to refuse Guy's  suggestions of riding or walking. How much she had longed to accept he'd  never know, but the one thing she tried to avoid at all costs was any  prolonged tete-a-tete.

The creaking of the wicker chair caught Felicity's wandering attention,  Colonel Brenton had stirred and, fully awakened from his doze, he was  pulling himself up in his seat. In a moment Felicity was at his side,  arranging the cushions more comfortably. "You've been sleeping-enjoyed  it?" she teased, then went on, "Now how about a hot drink-tea or  something?"

"The unorthodox hours at which you young women drink tea quite stagger  me." The twinkle in his eye belied his words. "Around half past eleven,  isn't it? How about a glass of port and a biscuit. Sounds far more  attractive to me."