The Rosary [75]
startling suddenness; and in it was the cry of one lost in an abyss of darkness, but appealing to them with a frantic demand for instant enlightenment.
"WHO is in the room?" cried Garth Dalmain.
His face was still turned to the wall; but he had raised himself on his left elbow, in an attitude which betokened intent listening.
Dr. Mackenzie answered. "No one is in the room, Mr. Dalmain, but myself and Nurse Gray."
"There IS some one else in the room!" said Garth violently. "How dare you lie to me! Who was speaking?"
Then Jane came quickly to the side of the bed. Her hands were trembling, but her voice was perfectly under control.
"It was I who spoke, sir," she said; "Nurse Rosemary Gray. And I feel sure I know why my voice startled you. Dr. Brand warned me it might do so. He said I must not be surprised if you detected a remarkable similarity between my voice and that of a mutual friend of yours and his. He said he had often noticed it."
Garth, in his blindness, remained quite still; listening and considering. At length he asked slowly: "Did he say whose voice?"
"Yes, for I asked him. He said it was Miss Champion's."
Garth's head dropped back upon the pillow. Then without turning he said in a tone which Jane knew meant a smile on that dear hidden face: "You must forgive me, Miss Gray, for being so startled and so stupidly, unpardonably agitated. But, you know, being blind is still such a new experience, and every fresh voice which breaks through the black curtain of perpetual night, means so infinitely more than the speaker realises. The resemblance in your voice to that of the lady Sir Deryck mentioned is so remarkable that, although I know her to be at this moment in Egypt, I could scarcely believe she was not in the room. And yet the most unlikely thing in the world would be that she should have been in this room. So I owe you and Dr. Mackenzie most humble apologies for my agitation and unbelief."
He stretched out his right hand, palm upwards, towards Jane.
Jane clasped her shaking hands behind her.
"Now, Nurse, if you please," broke in Dr. Mackenzie's rasping voice from the window, "I have a few more details to explain to you over here."
They talked together for a while without interruption, until Dr. Rob remarked: "I suppose I will have to be going."
Then Garth said: "I wish to speak to you alone, doctor, for a few minutes."
"I will wait for you downstairs, Dr. Mackenzie," said Jane, and was moving towards the door, when an imperious gesture from Dr. Rob stopped her, and she turned silently to the fireplace. She could not see any need now for this subterfuge, and it annoyed her. But the freckled little Napoleon of the moors was not a man to be lightly disobeyed. He walked to the door, opened and closed it; then returned to the bedside, drew up a chair, and sat down.
"Now, Mr. Dalmain," he said.
Garth sat up and turned towards him eagerly.
Then, for the first time, Jane saw his face.
"Doctor," he said, "tell me about this nurse. Describe her to me."
The tension in tone and attitude was extreme. His hands were clasped in front of him, as if imploring sight through the eyes of another. His thin white face, worn with suffering, looked so eager and yet so blank.
"Describe her to me, doctor," he said; "this Nurse Rosemary Gray, as you call her."
"But it is not a pet name of mine, my dear sir," said Dr. Rob deliberately. "It is the young lady's own name, and a pretty one, too. 'Rosemary for remembrance.' Is not that Shakespeare?"
"Describe her to me," insisted Garth, for the third time.
Dr. Mackenzie glanced at Jane. But she had turned her back, to hide the tears which were streaming down her cheeks. Oh, Garth! Oh, beautiful Garth of the shining eyes!
Dr. Rob drew Deryck's letter from his pocket and studied it.
"Well," he said slowly, "she is a pretty, dainty little thing; just the sort of elegant young woman you would like to have about you, could you see her."
"Dark or fair?" asked Garth.
The doctor glanced at what he could see of Jane's cheek,
"WHO is in the room?" cried Garth Dalmain.
His face was still turned to the wall; but he had raised himself on his left elbow, in an attitude which betokened intent listening.
Dr. Mackenzie answered. "No one is in the room, Mr. Dalmain, but myself and Nurse Gray."
"There IS some one else in the room!" said Garth violently. "How dare you lie to me! Who was speaking?"
Then Jane came quickly to the side of the bed. Her hands were trembling, but her voice was perfectly under control.
"It was I who spoke, sir," she said; "Nurse Rosemary Gray. And I feel sure I know why my voice startled you. Dr. Brand warned me it might do so. He said I must not be surprised if you detected a remarkable similarity between my voice and that of a mutual friend of yours and his. He said he had often noticed it."
Garth, in his blindness, remained quite still; listening and considering. At length he asked slowly: "Did he say whose voice?"
"Yes, for I asked him. He said it was Miss Champion's."
Garth's head dropped back upon the pillow. Then without turning he said in a tone which Jane knew meant a smile on that dear hidden face: "You must forgive me, Miss Gray, for being so startled and so stupidly, unpardonably agitated. But, you know, being blind is still such a new experience, and every fresh voice which breaks through the black curtain of perpetual night, means so infinitely more than the speaker realises. The resemblance in your voice to that of the lady Sir Deryck mentioned is so remarkable that, although I know her to be at this moment in Egypt, I could scarcely believe she was not in the room. And yet the most unlikely thing in the world would be that she should have been in this room. So I owe you and Dr. Mackenzie most humble apologies for my agitation and unbelief."
He stretched out his right hand, palm upwards, towards Jane.
Jane clasped her shaking hands behind her.
"Now, Nurse, if you please," broke in Dr. Mackenzie's rasping voice from the window, "I have a few more details to explain to you over here."
They talked together for a while without interruption, until Dr. Rob remarked: "I suppose I will have to be going."
Then Garth said: "I wish to speak to you alone, doctor, for a few minutes."
"I will wait for you downstairs, Dr. Mackenzie," said Jane, and was moving towards the door, when an imperious gesture from Dr. Rob stopped her, and she turned silently to the fireplace. She could not see any need now for this subterfuge, and it annoyed her. But the freckled little Napoleon of the moors was not a man to be lightly disobeyed. He walked to the door, opened and closed it; then returned to the bedside, drew up a chair, and sat down.
"Now, Mr. Dalmain," he said.
Garth sat up and turned towards him eagerly.
Then, for the first time, Jane saw his face.
"Doctor," he said, "tell me about this nurse. Describe her to me."
The tension in tone and attitude was extreme. His hands were clasped in front of him, as if imploring sight through the eyes of another. His thin white face, worn with suffering, looked so eager and yet so blank.
"Describe her to me, doctor," he said; "this Nurse Rosemary Gray, as you call her."
"But it is not a pet name of mine, my dear sir," said Dr. Rob deliberately. "It is the young lady's own name, and a pretty one, too. 'Rosemary for remembrance.' Is not that Shakespeare?"
"Describe her to me," insisted Garth, for the third time.
Dr. Mackenzie glanced at Jane. But she had turned her back, to hide the tears which were streaming down her cheeks. Oh, Garth! Oh, beautiful Garth of the shining eyes!
Dr. Rob drew Deryck's letter from his pocket and studied it.
"Well," he said slowly, "she is a pretty, dainty little thing; just the sort of elegant young woman you would like to have about you, could you see her."
"Dark or fair?" asked Garth.
The doctor glanced at what he could see of Jane's cheek,