Nurse in White by Lucy Agnes Hancock Page B

wished she would. She yearned over her in a way that aroused Ann’s ire. The girl would be better out of the misery and free from her beast of a husband. Ellen knew that probably Ann was right, but her heart ached every time she came near the bed. She wondered if the girl sensed her tender pity, for her eyes would glow with some inner light and the smile that greeted her was poignantly sweet. So young to die as die she must. Ellen, who had seen death come in so many different guises since that Christmas Eve when little Eloise had gratefully slipped away, no longer looked upon it as always an enemy. Sometimes it was indeed a friend—leading one into another, pleasanter room—to the beginning of another and grander adventure. Oh, there were so many worse things than death, so much that was far harder to bear!
    Mrs. Crispi had ceased her everlasting moaning at her failure to leave and thought the star that graced the top of the tree far too small and not very bright, either. Couldn’t someone go out to her place and get one of the kids to lend them theirs? They’d much rather have a pitcher of Roosevelt on it anyways—swell Americans, they was.” But the star stayed put and all but Mrs. Crispi thought it absolutely lovely.
    The ward was childishly jubilant. At five o’clock Dr. MacGowan and Miss Forsyth, followed by the house physician and the two interns, stopped in on their tour of inspection through the hospital, and Ellen held her breath. The other nurses were merely attentively respectful.
    “Best of the lot!” the chief of staff said heartily.
    Miss Forsyth eyed the tree somewhat belligerently, her eyes suspicious. Dr. Braddock grinned at Ellen and Dent looked blandly innocent.
    “You have a great many lights, it seems to me,” the superintendent said and Ellen was sure she was counting each glowing bulb. “How is it you have so many? They were to be proportioned.” She looked coldly at the girls, two of whom were perfectly innocent as to just where the lights in question had come from. Ann looked hurt at even the suggestion of greediness. No one said anything.
    “Well, you see, Miss Forsyth—” Ellen began.
    “A tree of this size needs plenty of lights,” MacGowan interposed crisply. “One less would spoil it.”
    “But—but—in the reception rooms—”
    “Umph!” the surgeon growled. “Where else would they be so much appreciated as right here in Ward L?”
    Why, he’s splendid! Something of her unspoken admiration showed in Ellen’s brown eyes, for the stern, ugly face of the surgeon broke into a rare and unexpected smile.
    Cyrus Dent silently clapped his hands and again the plump little house physician grinned at Ellen. What a grand bunch they were, she thought, her heart wa rm ing to them. The chief hadn’t finished.
    “You’re doing a fine job, Gaylord, and I’m not referring wholly to the tree. Sometime I want to have a talk with you about our mysterious guest.”
    Ellen glowed with pleasure. He had scarcely noticed her before. Even when she was privileged to assist him she felt that she had been just someone to stand silently by, anticipating his needs with quick intelligence and skilful hands. She had even thought him quite unaware of her identity.
    Miss Forsyth stiffened and the eyes and mouths of the others showed signs of opening in amazement. Angus unbending! Angus noticing a girl! Would wonders never cease? “Thank you, doctor,” Ellen murmured, “anytime you wish.”
    Her back stiff with disapproval, the superintendent followed the surgeon from the room. Dr. Braddock, still smiling, was close behind and the two young interns tiptoed after in exaggerated stealth. Ann Murdock braced herself, her fists clenched, her expression pugnacious.
    “I like that! Say, who did most of the dirty work on this tree, anyway?”
    “I did!” chorused the other three.
    “You did not. I did. I wrangled Cy Dent into snitching the best one for us, didn’t I?”
    “Call that dirty work?”