she flew off to her own kitchen to fill the hot bottles. While engaged in this operation she issued her orders to Marianne, and to Jessamy.
“Ring Dr. Geddes and ask him to come at once,” she instructed Jessamy. “And you, Marianne, must collect me some firewood as quickly as possible. I’ll have to get his fire lighted, and in the meantime I’ll have the electric fire from your bedroom, Jessamy. It’s more powerful than mine, and I think there’s a point in Mr. Leydon’s room, although I’m not absolutely sure.”
The girls gaped at her.
“Is he really ill?” Marianne demanded.
“I think he’s got a raging temperature. His bedroom’s like ice.”
“Serves him right,” Marianne returned unfeelingly. “He shouldn’t have kept you up amongst the chimney-pots for so long yesterday. You’re the one who should have a raging temperature ... and I expect poor old Minty’s got one, too. I thought he looked half dead when you brought him down from the roof.”
“Please hurry and get the firewood,” Alison ordered impatiently.
Marianne looked mutinous.
“You don’t mean I’m to go outside and collect some, do you?” she demanded. “I’m not a forester! Anyway, where do you keep it?”
“In the cupboard under the stairs, of course.” Alison actually snapped at her. “There’s a supply already chopped.”
“Oh, well, in that case...”
But although Jessamy flew to the telephone, Marianne took her time over collecting the wood. Jessamy came hurrying back from the main hall to report that Dr. Geddes, who had most fortunately been caught at his house before setting out for his surgery, was as good as on his way, and in the meantime they were to keep the patient warm. Warm! Alison felt slightly frantic. How on earth were they to do that in the main part of the house ... a house without any kind of central heating?
When she returned to Leydon’s room he was looking rather more glassy-eyed than before. He had subsided beneath the blankets, and hadn’t touched his tea. Alison, who had had plenty of experience of sick nursing looking after her husband, slid one of the bottles expertly in between the sheets near the foot of the bed, and the other she gave to Leydon to hug. He clutched at it gratefully, despite his avowed aversion to rubber hot-water bottles.
The next thing she did was to plug in the electric fire that Jessamy handed cautiously round the door, and then she produced a thermometer and inserted it in Leydon’s unwilling mouth. In a threadbare voice he spluttered:
“I don’t need this thing!”
“Be quiet!” she ordered.
When she looked at the thermometer all her worst fears were realised. Leydon’s temperature was very nearly a hundred and four.
Dr. Geddes arrived a quarter of an hour later. He seemed surprised when he was conducted up to one of the main bedrooms in the principal part of the house, and then instantly became interested when he heard that it was Charles Leydon himself who appeared to be very much under the weather.
“Sir Charles?” he said. “Oh, I shall enjoy meeting him. We’ve all been wondering in the village when we were going to see him.”
“Please don’t call him Sir Charles,” Alison begged, following him up the stairs. “He prefers to be known as Mr. Leydon! And I think it would be better if you didn’t let him know if he’s really rather ill.”
“Why?” He paused and looked at her. “A nervous type?”
“Not in the ordinary sense, but I suspect he might be the kind to worry over himself, as he’s probably very fit most of the time.”
“Ah, I get you!” The doctor looked as if he understood perfectly. “A bit of a he-man with a tendency to make much of a cut finger! Well, it’s common. The stronger a man is physically the more he dislikes being ill.”
And the first thing he did when he entered the sickroom was to greet the patient by his rightful name.
“Well, this is a pleasure, Sir Charles!” he said.
Later, he took
“Ring Dr. Geddes and ask him to come at once,” she instructed Jessamy. “And you, Marianne, must collect me some firewood as quickly as possible. I’ll have to get his fire lighted, and in the meantime I’ll have the electric fire from your bedroom, Jessamy. It’s more powerful than mine, and I think there’s a point in Mr. Leydon’s room, although I’m not absolutely sure.”
The girls gaped at her.
“Is he really ill?” Marianne demanded.
“I think he’s got a raging temperature. His bedroom’s like ice.”
“Serves him right,” Marianne returned unfeelingly. “He shouldn’t have kept you up amongst the chimney-pots for so long yesterday. You’re the one who should have a raging temperature ... and I expect poor old Minty’s got one, too. I thought he looked half dead when you brought him down from the roof.”
“Please hurry and get the firewood,” Alison ordered impatiently.
Marianne looked mutinous.
“You don’t mean I’m to go outside and collect some, do you?” she demanded. “I’m not a forester! Anyway, where do you keep it?”
“In the cupboard under the stairs, of course.” Alison actually snapped at her. “There’s a supply already chopped.”
“Oh, well, in that case...”
But although Jessamy flew to the telephone, Marianne took her time over collecting the wood. Jessamy came hurrying back from the main hall to report that Dr. Geddes, who had most fortunately been caught at his house before setting out for his surgery, was as good as on his way, and in the meantime they were to keep the patient warm. Warm! Alison felt slightly frantic. How on earth were they to do that in the main part of the house ... a house without any kind of central heating?
When she returned to Leydon’s room he was looking rather more glassy-eyed than before. He had subsided beneath the blankets, and hadn’t touched his tea. Alison, who had had plenty of experience of sick nursing looking after her husband, slid one of the bottles expertly in between the sheets near the foot of the bed, and the other she gave to Leydon to hug. He clutched at it gratefully, despite his avowed aversion to rubber hot-water bottles.
The next thing she did was to plug in the electric fire that Jessamy handed cautiously round the door, and then she produced a thermometer and inserted it in Leydon’s unwilling mouth. In a threadbare voice he spluttered:
“I don’t need this thing!”
“Be quiet!” she ordered.
When she looked at the thermometer all her worst fears were realised. Leydon’s temperature was very nearly a hundred and four.
Dr. Geddes arrived a quarter of an hour later. He seemed surprised when he was conducted up to one of the main bedrooms in the principal part of the house, and then instantly became interested when he heard that it was Charles Leydon himself who appeared to be very much under the weather.
“Sir Charles?” he said. “Oh, I shall enjoy meeting him. We’ve all been wondering in the village when we were going to see him.”
“Please don’t call him Sir Charles,” Alison begged, following him up the stairs. “He prefers to be known as Mr. Leydon! And I think it would be better if you didn’t let him know if he’s really rather ill.”
“Why?” He paused and looked at her. “A nervous type?”
“Not in the ordinary sense, but I suspect he might be the kind to worry over himself, as he’s probably very fit most of the time.”
“Ah, I get you!” The doctor looked as if he understood perfectly. “A bit of a he-man with a tendency to make much of a cut finger! Well, it’s common. The stronger a man is physically the more he dislikes being ill.”
And the first thing he did when he entered the sickroom was to greet the patient by his rightful name.
“Well, this is a pleasure, Sir Charles!” he said.
Later, he took
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