Damsel In Green. Бетти Нилс
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had received one or two highly coloured postcards from him, each one asking her when she would be returning. She went into the village shop on her way back, bought a postcard and wrote it then and there, and posted it in her turn. She would have liked to have sent one to Beatrix too, but the Professor might think that she was trying to curry favour. She was rather silent on the way home and when Aunt Polly asked if she was sorry to be going back in two days’ time, she agreed hastily, knowing that that really wasn’t the reason. She had been thinking about Professor Eyffert—indeed, she was forced to admit to herself that she had been thinking about him a great deal—a useless waste of time, she kept telling herself, at the same time making no attempt to check her thoughts.
The following day it rained—a cold drizzle which depressed her usually cheerful spirits. She spent the morning pottering about the little house, and while her aunt took her after-lunch nap, went upstairs to put away the ironing. She had her head in the cupboard on the tiny landing, counting pillowcases, when she heard the front door knocker, and a moment later Mrs Mogg opened the door. Georgina withdrew her head long enough from the cupboard to call:
‘If that’s Mr Payne, Moggy, would you ask him to let us have some more eggs—tomorrow if he can.’
She didn’t wait for an answer, but fell to sorting the sheets, and it was quite some minutes later when Mrs Mogg called to her from the hall below.
‘Miss Georgina, will you come down? You’re wanted in the sitting-room.’
She ran down the stairs and opened the sitting-room door, went in and stopped short, saying foolishly:
‘Oh, it’s you!’ at the same time very aware of her hair hanging in a ponytail and her rather elderly slacks and sweater—the sweater was a deep orange, faded now, but still becoming; it made her eyes seem very bright and dark and emphasized the soft brown of her despised ponytail. She was positive that she looked as plain as a pikestaff, unconscious of the fact that she had never looked so pretty.
Professor Eyffert had been sitting beside her aunt’s chair, but he got up now, the low-ceilinged little room accentuating his height, so that she had her mouth open to warn him to stoop, then desisted when she saw that there were still several inches to spare.
She said primly, ‘Good afternoon, sir,’ frowned heavily and went pink when his brows rose and his mouth twitched at its corners.
‘I was afraid that you might have forgotten me,’ he remarked mildly.
‘No, of course I haven’t forgotten you. How could I when Cor quotes you at me night and morning?’ She stopped, struck by a thought. ‘They’re all right, aren’t they? Beatrix and Cor?’
‘It is about Cor that I have come,’ he said slowly, and her heart checked its crazy pace. Of course the reason for his coming hadn’t anything to do with her! ‘You must forgive me for calling like this, but I have a favour to ask of you.’
She thought she knew what it was then—that she should go back a day sooner because Cor wanted her. ‘If I can help in any way …’ she began, and was interrupted by Aunt Polly.
‘Take Professor Eyffert into the dining-room, child, so that he can discuss whatever it is with you.’
‘I should prefer to remain here if I may,’ he said decidedly. ‘You see, I imagine Miss Rodman will wish to tell you of my plans.’
‘Sit down then, both of you,’ said Great-Aunt Polly. ‘I’m all agog.’
So was Georgina. She was trying to think what plans he could have which would include herself. She sat down in the little crinoline chair opposite her aunt and left the Professor to dispose his bulk in the sturdy old Windsor chair between them.
‘I propose to take Cor home.’ At his words Georgina opened her pretty mouth to protest, then closed it hastily under his amused look.
‘I quite agree, Miss Rodman. An awkward and difficult business, involving complicated transport, portable X-rays, fixing of a Balkan frame, nursing care … I should like you to undertake the nursing care.’
She blinked at him. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I seldom say things I don’t mean,’ he countered placidly. ‘I have given the whole matter a great deal of consideration—Cor is eating his young heart out at the moment. We are a very united family.’ He gave her a quick glance. ‘I daresay Cor or Beatrix have already told you that they have no parents?’
She nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I thought you were their father, so your cousin explained a little, and then Cor told me. I—I have a rough idea.’
He laughed. ‘Very rough, I should imagine. You’ll come?’
Georgina stared at him. He quite obviously expected her to say yes. He stared back at her with a self-confidence which wasn’t quite arrogance. She would assert herself; it would be ridiculous to say yes in such a weak fashion. She swallowed—then said yes, and added, to justify her weak and instant acceptance, ‘But I shall need to know a great deal more about the whole thing.’
And he said in a tone of voice to make her cheeks burn and her pulses race, ‘Oh, my dear girl, I thought that you were going to refuse.’ He smiled briefly and brilliantly, and then, as though he wished to forget what he had said, went on in a businesslike way, ‘I will explain what I intend to do, and then you can ask as many questions as you wish.’ He turned to Aunt Polly. ‘We do not bore you, I hope, Miss Rodman?’
‘On the contrary, young man, I am diverted.’ She smiled and nodded to her niece, ignoring the look of horror on her face. Georgina hoped that the Professor had not noticed that he had been called ‘young man’ although she felt this to be extremely unlikely. She suspected that very little escaped those cool blue eyes … or, for that matter, those sharp ears.
She folded her hands in her lap, looking, despite the slacks, very demure, emptied her head of the ridiculous but delightful notions which had been filling it, and said in a brisk voice, ‘Yes, sir,’ and was quelled when he said, ‘As we are not in hospital, Miss Rodman, I feel that there is no need for you to call me “sir” with every other breath.’
Her cooling cheeks took fire again. ‘Just as you wish, … Professor.’
She thought for a moment that he was going to object to that too, but he let it pass and went on blandly:
‘It is now the eighth of November—I believe that you finish night duty on the eighteenth. Am I right?’ He barely gave her time to nod. ‘You will have Cor as your sole care, you understand, but you will of course take reasonable time off each day as well as a completely free day each week.’
He stopped, and turned to look at her, gravely waiting for her to speak. It seemed ridiculous to mention it, but she said diffidently:
‘I’m a staff nurse in Casualty, and I hadn’t intended to give in my notice.’
‘Ah, a point I forgot to mention. I have not yet spoken to your Matron; I wished to see how you felt about my proposition before doing so, but I believe that I may have you on loan for a reasonable time—it has been done before. If you will leave that to me?’
She went on doggedly, ‘And the surgeon? Will Cor be under Old Saw … Mr Sawbridge? And shall I be responsible to him?’
‘Yes, most certainly you will. Old Sawbones—and do not scruple to call him by that name, Miss Rodman, for I have known him for many years and he has never been called anything else—has agreed to visit Cor as often as necessary, and will arrange for X-rays, special treatment and so forth.’
‘I see. Very well, Professor—provided that Matron has no objection.’
‘I see no reason why she should,’ he replied coolly. ‘Do you drive?’
‘We haven’t a car, but I have a licence.’
‘Good. There is a car you may care to use while you are with us.’
Aunt Polly spoke. ‘Splendid!