Vigil in the Night Read Online Free PDF

would prefer me to salute when you come in.”
      He reddened, tried to glare her out of countenance, and failed. “Don’t be impertinent,” he said. “You were fiddling about in the ward and paying no attention. If you don’t look out, I’ll report you to the chief and have you flung out.”
      Anne bit her lip fiercely, restraining herself by a supreme effort. She could not afford to defend herself against this injustice. She dared not, simply dared not, run the risk of losing her job.
      When he saw that she was silent, he laughed shortly. “That’s taught you something, hasn’t it, Miss Impertinence? And I’ll give you a few more lessons before I’m through. I’ll devote myself pretty thoroughly to teaching you the etiquette of this particular ward. In the meantime pay attention to what I’m saying. Number 5 here is a gastro-enterostomy. He had suspicion of hematemesis this morning, and the chief’s worried about him. I want you to watch him carefully, and if he hemorrhages again, let me know at once. Ring me at the Park Hotel. I’m going out there to tea. Do you understand?”
      “Yes.” The word was wrenched from her.
      He stared at her insolently. “Yes, what? Don’t you know that you must address me as ‘sir’?”
      “Very well, sir,” Anne said in a low, distinct tone.
      He chuckled, enjoying his triumph; then turning, he swaggered through the swing doors of the ward and was gone.
      Next day Anne was passed as physically fit by Mr. Sinclair, the chief surgeon of the ward, and thereafter, despite the many discomforts and hardships of the place, she began gradually to find herself. The work continued to be supremely interesting. And she was learning, learning all the time. Mr. Sinclair was an M.S. and a F.R.C.S., and though a dried-up little elderly man—his beard was silver gray—he was still a good surgeon. His main defect was his timidity, which caused him occasionally to send a doubtful case to his colleague Prescott on the adjoining floor. Besides doing her work in the ward, Anne was drafted for occasional duty in the operating amphitheatre, and here she found her greatest joy. Assisting in the operating theatre was in her blood, it brought out the very best of her skill, drew even a grudging word of praise from that bleached automaton, Sister Gilson.
      Her hours were so long and her work so tiring she had little leisure and small incentive to use it. Escape came in her frequent thoughts of Lucy. She wrote a full and cheerful account of all her doings to her sister. She found, too, in her growing friendship with Nora and Glennie a bulwark against melancholy and a refuge in all her troubles, among which the petty enmity of Doctor Caley was not the least. Yet there were moments when she missed her sister terribly, when she questioned in her loving mind whether Lucy would consent to join her in this enormous barracks of a hospital. It was then she wondered, unhappily, if Hepperton were the right place for her after all. And then, toward the end of her first month, there came an incident which gave her fresh courage and inspiration, which altered the whole complexion of her life.
      It was Saturday afternoon, her half day off duty. Anne lay in her bed, resting and idly doing her nails, looking forward to an evening of unusual enjoyment. Nora had been given two tickets for the Repertory Theatre—tickets which were sent regularly to the hospital but which rarely fell into other hands than those of the sisters and senior staff. Suddenly Glennie burst into the room.
      “Gilson wants you,” she shot out, “at once. All hell’s broke loose.”
      Before Anne could speak, Glennie went on:
      “No, it’s not trouble, for a wonder. It’s sensation—with a capital S . Bowley’s appendix has suddenly talked back to him. Bowley of all people. And Prescott has brought him in here. Can you imagine? Can you beat it? The great Matthew Bowley in the private room in B. What am I