unpacking if I ’ m to get to bed tonight. Thank you very much for ringing, Doctor Gregory.” She felt that perhaps she was being a little abrupt when he had bothered to find out if she were all right. “What a lovely daughter you have! You must be very proud of Susan.”
There was a brief silence as if her statement had presented him with an unfamiliar fact. “Is she? I suppose she is. Susan is a lot like her mother in a way ... the same red hair but her personality is a complete puzzle to me, I must confess . ”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Try to remember yourself when young. She ’ s very much like you, you know.”
“Like me? I never thought of that. Robin I can fathom to some extent, although his not wanting to be a doctor has been a bitter disappointment to me; perhaps I show it too much and—we jar on one another,” he admitted slowly.
Elizabeth took a chance. “It ’ s only by setting him free to follow his own bent that you ’ ll keep him. The young have to feel their wings beat strongly before they will submit to direction.”
“Perhaps you have something there. I mustn ’ t keep you. Good night, Miss Graham, and I hope you will be happy at St. Genevieve ’ s, even if we may sometimes disagree.”
There was the sound of a faint chuckle before the line went dead. Elizabeth put down the receiver and hurriedly finished her cooling tea. She had unpacked her first case and hung her frocks on their hangers when the phone went again. For a moment she was tempted not to answer it. After all, she wasn ’ t on duty; or had her predecessor, Miss Brown been available at all hours to those that needed her counsel and her comfort ?
“Matron here,” she said somewhat curtly.
“Elizabeth! Must you freeze a poor devil in that tone? I ’ ve been trying to get you for ages. The chap insisted that your line was engaged and got quite nasty w hen I suggested he was saying that because he didn ’ t want to put me through. Will you believe me if I say I ’ m really and truly sorry that I provoked you tonight ? ”
“I ’ m sorry, too,” Elizabeth said with unusual meekness. “There was no excuse for what I did. I ’ m not in the habit of slapping people.”
There was a laugh at the other end. “I know. I haven ’ t recovered from the shock. Perhaps it did me good. Can ’ t we try again ... to be friends as we were before I went away?” There was an unusual note of pleading in his voice.
Elizabeth hesitated. She had no desire to be hurried towards a decision of any kind, and yet she didn ’ t want to hurt him again.
“I think it would be better if we pretended we ’ d just met and went on from there,” she suggested finally.
“You mean make a fresh start?”
“Something lik e that,” Elizabeth admitted.
He laughed again, and there was no mockery in it. “I think you ’ ll find I ’ m nicer than I used to be, Elizabeth. I know I slipped up tonight, but that was partly the shock of seeing you walk in, and I promise I won ’ t again ... not if I can help it. All right?”
“We can try,” Elizabeth said rather dubiously. She was beginning to wonder if she had been hurried into a decision after all.
“You might sound as if the prospect pleased you,” Stuart said in a teasing tone. “Good night, Elizabeth—or should I call you Miss Graham, if we ’ re new friends?”
Elizabeth laughed helplessly. One could never stay angry with Stuart for long; or could one? “Good night, Stuart. Thanks for ringing.”
When she had put the receiver down she no longer felt like unpacking. The rest could wait until tomorrow. She had her bath and remembered to refill the hot water bottles. She had a feeling that if she didn ’ t, somehow Sister Winsley would hear about it and giv e her a scolding about sleeping in unaired beds. After she had switched out the light she lay there in the darkness, and through the open window came the distant s ound of a mighty river running strongly towards the
There was a brief silence as if her statement had presented him with an unfamiliar fact. “Is she? I suppose she is. Susan is a lot like her mother in a way ... the same red hair but her personality is a complete puzzle to me, I must confess . ”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Try to remember yourself when young. She ’ s very much like you, you know.”
“Like me? I never thought of that. Robin I can fathom to some extent, although his not wanting to be a doctor has been a bitter disappointment to me; perhaps I show it too much and—we jar on one another,” he admitted slowly.
Elizabeth took a chance. “It ’ s only by setting him free to follow his own bent that you ’ ll keep him. The young have to feel their wings beat strongly before they will submit to direction.”
“Perhaps you have something there. I mustn ’ t keep you. Good night, Miss Graham, and I hope you will be happy at St. Genevieve ’ s, even if we may sometimes disagree.”
There was the sound of a faint chuckle before the line went dead. Elizabeth put down the receiver and hurriedly finished her cooling tea. She had unpacked her first case and hung her frocks on their hangers when the phone went again. For a moment she was tempted not to answer it. After all, she wasn ’ t on duty; or had her predecessor, Miss Brown been available at all hours to those that needed her counsel and her comfort ?
“Matron here,” she said somewhat curtly.
“Elizabeth! Must you freeze a poor devil in that tone? I ’ ve been trying to get you for ages. The chap insisted that your line was engaged and got quite nasty w hen I suggested he was saying that because he didn ’ t want to put me through. Will you believe me if I say I ’ m really and truly sorry that I provoked you tonight ? ”
“I ’ m sorry, too,” Elizabeth said with unusual meekness. “There was no excuse for what I did. I ’ m not in the habit of slapping people.”
There was a laugh at the other end. “I know. I haven ’ t recovered from the shock. Perhaps it did me good. Can ’ t we try again ... to be friends as we were before I went away?” There was an unusual note of pleading in his voice.
Elizabeth hesitated. She had no desire to be hurried towards a decision of any kind, and yet she didn ’ t want to hurt him again.
“I think it would be better if we pretended we ’ d just met and went on from there,” she suggested finally.
“You mean make a fresh start?”
“Something lik e that,” Elizabeth admitted.
He laughed again, and there was no mockery in it. “I think you ’ ll find I ’ m nicer than I used to be, Elizabeth. I know I slipped up tonight, but that was partly the shock of seeing you walk in, and I promise I won ’ t again ... not if I can help it. All right?”
“We can try,” Elizabeth said rather dubiously. She was beginning to wonder if she had been hurried into a decision after all.
“You might sound as if the prospect pleased you,” Stuart said in a teasing tone. “Good night, Elizabeth—or should I call you Miss Graham, if we ’ re new friends?”
Elizabeth laughed helplessly. One could never stay angry with Stuart for long; or could one? “Good night, Stuart. Thanks for ringing.”
When she had put the receiver down she no longer felt like unpacking. The rest could wait until tomorrow. She had her bath and remembered to refill the hot water bottles. She had a feeling that if she didn ’ t, somehow Sister Winsley would hear about it and giv e her a scolding about sleeping in unaired beds. After she had switched out the light she lay there in the darkness, and through the open window came the distant s ound of a mighty river running strongly towards the
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