”
“ I ’ m terribly sorry, Mrs. Barton. I went off duty at six, but one of the P.N.s should have seen your light and answered it, ” Hilary soothed her. “ But I ’ m here now. What ’ s the matter? ”
“ Nobody brought me any supper, ” whimpered Mrs. Barton. “ And I didn ’ t eat any lunch—I couldn ’ t, there was such a lump in my throat. And I ’ m so hungry ... ”
“ But, Mrs. Barton honey, why didn ’ t you come down to the dining room for dinner? ” wondered Hilary.
Mrs. Barton ’ s tear-dimmed eyes widened.
“ Oh, was I supposed to? I thought trays were brought to the rooms like any other hospital. ” Mrs. Barton was dumbfounded.
“ Oh, we serve trays in the rooms to guests who are unable to come to the dining room, but we think it is much better for ambulatory—I mean, for those who feel strong enough — to come to the dining room. It ’ s so much more cheerful for you to meet the other guests, and often there ’ s entertainment in the club room, and it ’ s really lots of fun, ” Hilary explained gently.
Mrs. Barton ’ s tear-reddened face was downcast.
“ I didn ’ t know that, ” she stammered.
“ Well, it ’ s our fault; we should have explained, ” Hilary comforted her. “ But don ’ t you worry. The kitchen is closed for the night, but I ’ m sure I can find you something. You just wait right here. ”
“ I hate to be a bother ... ”
“ Nonsense, you aren ’ t at all, ” Hilary scolded her gently. “ Now you just relax and make yourself comfortable, and I ’ ll get you some supper. ”
She went quickly out of the room and toward the kitchen wing. When she came back along the hall a little later, Dr. Marsden was just entering the lobby, pausing at the switchboard to pick up any messages that might have come in during his absence. He looked up, saw Hilary with the tray, and his eyebrows rose as he came swiftly toward her.
“ Do we have a bed patient, Miss Westbrook? Nobody reported it to me. ” He looked swiftly over the tray.
Hilary explained briefly, and he looked annoyed.
“ You must make it quite plain to her, Miss Westbrook, that she will be expected to have her meals in the dining room with the others hereafter, ” he said forcefully. “ We can ’ t have this sort of thing: guests demanding room service, lurking in their own rooms, refusing to mix with the others. If one starts it, the others will follow suit, and the whole discipline of the place will fall apart. ”
“ Yes, Doctor, ” said Hilary without expression. “ But I may give her this food tonight? After all, she ’ s had nothing to eat since breakfast—and she is tired and upset ... ”
“ Chicken soup? A chicken sandwich? Bit of salad? Glass of milk? ” Dr. Marsden checked the tray swiftly. “ Yes, that ’ s all right. I only hope that her medical history doesn ’ t forbid midnight feeding. ”
And before Hilary could remind him that it was barely after nine, he strode away toward his own quarters. And Hilary, feeling that she had never disliked a man so much in her life, set her mouth into a thin line and went on down to 312 with Mrs. Barton ’ s supper.
Mrs. Barton ’ s eyes gleamed with childlike pleasure as Hilary put the tray on a small table and whipped the covering napkin away.
“ There, does that look good? It was the best I could do, with the kitchen closed, and the snack bar all locked up. ” Hilary smiled. “ I do hope you ’ ll enjoy it. You will come down to the dining room for breakfast in the morning, won ’ t you? ”
“ Oh, yes, of course. ” Mrs. Barton was consuming her soup with the eager appetite of a child. “ And I ’ m terribly sorry I ’ ve been such a nuisance! ”
“ You haven ’ t been, at all. It was all my fault for not making sure that you understood the rules. And the P.N. on this corridor should have seen your light when you first put it on, ” Hilary comforted her.
“ What ’ s a P.N.? ” asked Mrs. Barton
“ I ’ m terribly sorry, Mrs. Barton. I went off duty at six, but one of the P.N.s should have seen your light and answered it, ” Hilary soothed her. “ But I ’ m here now. What ’ s the matter? ”
“ Nobody brought me any supper, ” whimpered Mrs. Barton. “ And I didn ’ t eat any lunch—I couldn ’ t, there was such a lump in my throat. And I ’ m so hungry ... ”
“ But, Mrs. Barton honey, why didn ’ t you come down to the dining room for dinner? ” wondered Hilary.
Mrs. Barton ’ s tear-dimmed eyes widened.
“ Oh, was I supposed to? I thought trays were brought to the rooms like any other hospital. ” Mrs. Barton was dumbfounded.
“ Oh, we serve trays in the rooms to guests who are unable to come to the dining room, but we think it is much better for ambulatory—I mean, for those who feel strong enough — to come to the dining room. It ’ s so much more cheerful for you to meet the other guests, and often there ’ s entertainment in the club room, and it ’ s really lots of fun, ” Hilary explained gently.
Mrs. Barton ’ s tear-reddened face was downcast.
“ I didn ’ t know that, ” she stammered.
“ Well, it ’ s our fault; we should have explained, ” Hilary comforted her. “ But don ’ t you worry. The kitchen is closed for the night, but I ’ m sure I can find you something. You just wait right here. ”
“ I hate to be a bother ... ”
“ Nonsense, you aren ’ t at all, ” Hilary scolded her gently. “ Now you just relax and make yourself comfortable, and I ’ ll get you some supper. ”
She went quickly out of the room and toward the kitchen wing. When she came back along the hall a little later, Dr. Marsden was just entering the lobby, pausing at the switchboard to pick up any messages that might have come in during his absence. He looked up, saw Hilary with the tray, and his eyebrows rose as he came swiftly toward her.
“ Do we have a bed patient, Miss Westbrook? Nobody reported it to me. ” He looked swiftly over the tray.
Hilary explained briefly, and he looked annoyed.
“ You must make it quite plain to her, Miss Westbrook, that she will be expected to have her meals in the dining room with the others hereafter, ” he said forcefully. “ We can ’ t have this sort of thing: guests demanding room service, lurking in their own rooms, refusing to mix with the others. If one starts it, the others will follow suit, and the whole discipline of the place will fall apart. ”
“ Yes, Doctor, ” said Hilary without expression. “ But I may give her this food tonight? After all, she ’ s had nothing to eat since breakfast—and she is tired and upset ... ”
“ Chicken soup? A chicken sandwich? Bit of salad? Glass of milk? ” Dr. Marsden checked the tray swiftly. “ Yes, that ’ s all right. I only hope that her medical history doesn ’ t forbid midnight feeding. ”
And before Hilary could remind him that it was barely after nine, he strode away toward his own quarters. And Hilary, feeling that she had never disliked a man so much in her life, set her mouth into a thin line and went on down to 312 with Mrs. Barton ’ s supper.
Mrs. Barton ’ s eyes gleamed with childlike pleasure as Hilary put the tray on a small table and whipped the covering napkin away.
“ There, does that look good? It was the best I could do, with the kitchen closed, and the snack bar all locked up. ” Hilary smiled. “ I do hope you ’ ll enjoy it. You will come down to the dining room for breakfast in the morning, won ’ t you? ”
“ Oh, yes, of course. ” Mrs. Barton was consuming her soup with the eager appetite of a child. “ And I ’ m terribly sorry I ’ ve been such a nuisance! ”
“ You haven ’ t been, at all. It was all my fault for not making sure that you understood the rules. And the P.N. on this corridor should have seen your light when you first put it on, ” Hilary comforted her.
“ What ’ s a P.N.? ” asked Mrs. Barton
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