Nurse Hilary Read Online Free PDF

managed to keep his voice from sounding impatient, but she realized it was an effort.
    “ A new patient— ” she began.
    “ Not a patient, Miss—Westbrook, isn ’ t it? ” he corrected her, and there was a faintly sardonic tone to his voice. “ A new guest. ”
    Hilary ’ s eyebrows mounted ever so slightly, but she answered him coolly, “ I ’ m sorry. A new guest, Mrs. Barton, has arrived. Her family would like to talk to you, to assure themselves she will be well taken care of. ”
    Now Dr. Marsden ’ s scowl was frank, as he ran his fingers through his hair that stood up in a crew-cut above his brown face.
    “ Bring them in, Miss Westbrook, ” he yielded. “ You ’ d better see about getting the guest settled. I ’ ll talk to the family. ”
    “ Yes, Doctor, ” said Hilary.
    She smiled at Mrs. Barton ’ s family as they trooped in, closed the door gently behind them and went back to room 312.
    She tapped lightly at the door, heard a murmur she took to be permission to enter, and opened the door to find Mrs. Barton perched miserably on the edge of the deeply cushioned, well-upholstered armchair.
    “ Have they gone? ” she asked huskily.
    There was depth of misery in the old voice that struck at Hilary.
    “ They ’ re talking to the doctor, ” she answered gently.
    Mrs. Barton still wore the absurdly unbecoming but very fashionable hat, held her gloves and her handbag. She had not even removed her coat, and as she looked up at Hilary there was something so piteous in her eyes that Hilary wanted to weep in sympathy for the homesickness that was already sweeping over the little creature.
    “ They ’ re good children, ” said Mrs. Barton, her voice low and shaken. “ They love me and they want the best for me. But they worried so about me living all alone, I couldn ’ t make them believe I liked it. They kept saying, ‘ But, Mother, suppose you were taken sick in the night, suppose you had an accident, suppose the house caught fire ’ —as if I wouldn ’ t have sense enough to telephone for help if I needed it! ”
    Hilary waited, letting her talk out the ache in her old heart.
    “ I hated to leave my garden, ” said Mrs. Barton huskily. “ Oh, of course there ’ s nothing much showing in it now. It ’ s too early. But the forsythia is in bloom, and oh, it ’ s so lovely. I ’ m glad I didn ’ t have to leave when the iris was in bloom! I ’ m—famous for my iris. I win all the prizes at the flower show with it. I have hundreds, every known variety and ...” Suddenly the tears came, and she wept like a heartbroken child, while Hilary knelt beside her and put her arms about her and held her close.
    At last Mrs. Barton pulled herself erect, her face raddled by tears, fumbling helplessly in her capacious bag for a scrap of a lace-trimmed handkerchief that was completely inadequate.
    Hilary went into the bathroom, wet a wash cloth in cold water and brought it back. Smiling, she mopped the old face and heard Mrs. Barton offer apologies for the tears.
    “ I almost never cry, ” she stammered. “ It ’ s just that—that everything seems so strange. ”
    “ Of course it does, but you ’ ll soon get adjusted. You ’ ll find friends here, and the first thing you know you ’ ll be having a wonderful time. You wait and see, ” Hilary promised her, with a determined gaiety she hoped sounded more convincing in Mrs. Barton ’ s ears than in her own.
    Mrs. Barton clung to her hand for a moment, looking up, tears swimming in her eyes.
    “ Don ’ t let them come back. They mustn ’ t know I ’ ve been crying, ” she pleaded. “ Tell them—oh, tell them I am taking a nap before supper. But don ’ t let them come back, please. ”
    “ Of course not, if you ’ d rather they didn ’ t, ” Hilary said. “ Would you like a maid to unpack for you? ”
    Mrs. Barton looked honestly startled.
    “ Land no! ” she protested. “ I ’ ve never had anybody unpack for me in my life except