Eleanor cautiously, rather pleased.
Beth lowered her voice. “Yes, you mind I’m not blaming Albert, gracious knows, poor devil, he does his job. And El, when I think what must go through that mind of his!”
“Yes,” mused Eleanor, “I suppose.”
“Still in all, we have got the girls to think of now, El, especially Janie and Babs.”
“Barbara? What has she to do with it then?”
“Well, not that exactly. What I mean is, girls at their age, El, you know there’s bound to be some complication. And then on top of it a young man popping up in every direction! It’s only natural. And Babs I believe especially.”
“But why Barbara?” asked Nurse Thorne evenly.
“It wouldn’t be my place to say it, Eleanor, but I simply can’t help not feeling that it isn’t somehow a mistake putting the youngsters alone like that together so often, especially under the conditions.” And so saying, she actually nodded toward the window, even in the general direction of Nurses’ Lounge and the daffodils of Garcia.
“Why how on earth do you mean?” said Eleanor too shrilly.
“Well, here’s my point, Eleanor: the girls are cooped in here the whole day with all old sick fuddies—then a young man pops up! Somebody their own age—like this morning, exactly. If you could have seen our Babs! I’ll tell you she was on pins and needles the whole time. I don’t know when I’ve seen a youngster so upset!”
“Yes, this morning, ” said Eleanor, taking a lighter view, “of course that was unfortunate I admit, Beth, I was held up at Bullock’s. But then ask yourself, how often is it to happen at that?”
“Often enough I should say from what I’ve seen,” returned Beth with dignity.
“What, an intoxication case in the morning? Really, Beth,” said Eleanor with a strange laugh, “you don’t mean it!”
“How’s that?” cried Beth, slightly raucous at being so off guard, but just as quick, so knowingly arch as her bulk and her great padded brows could manage, even so as not to be left out entirely, she said in a fine voice: “And who’s been at it this time if I may ask?”
“Why no, Beth, who are you thinking of then, not Mr. Edwards’ boy from the college?”
“Ralph Edwards, of course, Eleanor, who else would it be?”
“Well! Yes, well, I couldn’t say, of course, there may be something to it at that, Beth, what do you think?”
“I’ll tell you what I think, El,” said Beth grandly, “I think our girls have a crush on the young man. Unless I’m very much mistaken,” she added, as though she almost never were.
“Jane too then?” said Eleanor favoring another subject.
“What else?” asked Beth, as if now at last, they lay, all of them, really helpless before the man.
There followed a pause that seemed to expand with Beth’s own growing anticipations, and Eleanor cleared her throat to speak plainly. “I don’t know, Beth. Have you thought about this at all?”
“Why, how do you mean?”
“No. I mean, is there anything you can suggest?”
“Well yes, El,” said Beth, emphatic enough, though clearly she was improvising, “what I’m wondering now is this: when I’ve a day at Hillcrest, oughtn’t I to take my Jane along? After all, we’ve got to get in her General sometime, and heavens we could use her, you’ve no idea!”
When Nurse Thorne agreed to take this up at first opportunity with Dr. Charles, head of the Clinic, the two women passed on to the subject of this old man himself and his coming retirement, following which they spoke briefly, and somewhat on the oblique, of his possible successor, seemingly the most likely of which was Dr. Eichner, of whom at 49 they said, “comparatively young,” and as Beth Jackson pointed up, “on the very threshold of his career.”
There was then no further mention of the crocks as the talk of the women grew vague, themselves drifting apart, toward their own specifics, as in distraction to all the windows’ changing light,
Beth lowered her voice. “Yes, you mind I’m not blaming Albert, gracious knows, poor devil, he does his job. And El, when I think what must go through that mind of his!”
“Yes,” mused Eleanor, “I suppose.”
“Still in all, we have got the girls to think of now, El, especially Janie and Babs.”
“Barbara? What has she to do with it then?”
“Well, not that exactly. What I mean is, girls at their age, El, you know there’s bound to be some complication. And then on top of it a young man popping up in every direction! It’s only natural. And Babs I believe especially.”
“But why Barbara?” asked Nurse Thorne evenly.
“It wouldn’t be my place to say it, Eleanor, but I simply can’t help not feeling that it isn’t somehow a mistake putting the youngsters alone like that together so often, especially under the conditions.” And so saying, she actually nodded toward the window, even in the general direction of Nurses’ Lounge and the daffodils of Garcia.
“Why how on earth do you mean?” said Eleanor too shrilly.
“Well, here’s my point, Eleanor: the girls are cooped in here the whole day with all old sick fuddies—then a young man pops up! Somebody their own age—like this morning, exactly. If you could have seen our Babs! I’ll tell you she was on pins and needles the whole time. I don’t know when I’ve seen a youngster so upset!”
“Yes, this morning, ” said Eleanor, taking a lighter view, “of course that was unfortunate I admit, Beth, I was held up at Bullock’s. But then ask yourself, how often is it to happen at that?”
“Often enough I should say from what I’ve seen,” returned Beth with dignity.
“What, an intoxication case in the morning? Really, Beth,” said Eleanor with a strange laugh, “you don’t mean it!”
“How’s that?” cried Beth, slightly raucous at being so off guard, but just as quick, so knowingly arch as her bulk and her great padded brows could manage, even so as not to be left out entirely, she said in a fine voice: “And who’s been at it this time if I may ask?”
“Why no, Beth, who are you thinking of then, not Mr. Edwards’ boy from the college?”
“Ralph Edwards, of course, Eleanor, who else would it be?”
“Well! Yes, well, I couldn’t say, of course, there may be something to it at that, Beth, what do you think?”
“I’ll tell you what I think, El,” said Beth grandly, “I think our girls have a crush on the young man. Unless I’m very much mistaken,” she added, as though she almost never were.
“Jane too then?” said Eleanor favoring another subject.
“What else?” asked Beth, as if now at last, they lay, all of them, really helpless before the man.
There followed a pause that seemed to expand with Beth’s own growing anticipations, and Eleanor cleared her throat to speak plainly. “I don’t know, Beth. Have you thought about this at all?”
“Why, how do you mean?”
“No. I mean, is there anything you can suggest?”
“Well yes, El,” said Beth, emphatic enough, though clearly she was improvising, “what I’m wondering now is this: when I’ve a day at Hillcrest, oughtn’t I to take my Jane along? After all, we’ve got to get in her General sometime, and heavens we could use her, you’ve no idea!”
When Nurse Thorne agreed to take this up at first opportunity with Dr. Charles, head of the Clinic, the two women passed on to the subject of this old man himself and his coming retirement, following which they spoke briefly, and somewhat on the oblique, of his possible successor, seemingly the most likely of which was Dr. Eichner, of whom at 49 they said, “comparatively young,” and as Beth Jackson pointed up, “on the very threshold of his career.”
There was then no further mention of the crocks as the talk of the women grew vague, themselves drifting apart, toward their own specifics, as in distraction to all the windows’ changing light,
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