CHAPTER XVI
THE DOCTOR FINDS A WAY
"And now as to ways and means," said the doctor, when Jane felt better."You must leave by the night mail from Euston, the day after to-morrow.Can you be ready?"
"I am ready," said Jane.
"You must go as Nurse Rosemary Gray."
"I don't like that," Jane interposed. "I should prefer a fictitiousname. Suppose the real Rosemary Gray turned up, or some one who knowsher."
"My, dear girl, she is half-way to Australia by now, and you will seeno one up there but the household and the doctor. Any one who turned upwould be more likely to know you. We must take these risks. Besides, incase of complications arising, I will give you a note, which you canproduce at once, explaining the situation, and stating that in agreeingto fill the breach you consented at my request to take the name inorder to prevent any necessity for explanations to the patient, whichat this particular juncture would be most prejudicial. I can honestlysay this, it being even more true than appears. So you must dress thepart, Jane, and endeavour to look the part, so far as your five footeleven will permit; for please remember that I have described you toDr. Mackenzie as 'a pretty, dainty little thing, refined and elegant,and considerably more capable than she looks.'"
"Dicky! He will instantly realise that I am not the person mentioned inyour letter."
"Not so, dear. Remember we have to do with a Scotchman, and a Scotchmannever realises anything 'instantly.' The Gaelic mind works slowly,though it works exceeding sure. He will be exceeding sure, when he hascontemplated you for a while, that I am a 'verra poor judge o' women,'and that Nurse Gray is a far finer woman than I described. But he willhave already created for Dalmain, from my letter, a mental picture ofhis nurse; which is all that really matters. We must trust toProvidence that old Robbie does not proceed to amend it by theoriginal. Try to forestall any such conversation. If the good doctorseems to mistrust you, take him on one side, show him my letter, andtell him the simple truth. But I do not suppose this will be necessary.With the patient, you must remember the extreme sensitiveness of ablind man's hearing. Tread lightly. Do not give him any opportunity tojudge of your height. Try to remember that you are not supposed to beable to reach the top shelf of an eight-foot bookcase without the aidof steps or a chair. And when the patient begins to stand and walk, tryto keep him from finding out that his nurse is slightly taller thanhimself. This should not be difficult; one of his fixed ideas beingthat in his blindness he will not be touched by a woman. His valet willlead him about. And, Jane, I cannot imagine any one who has ever hadyour hand in his, failing to recognise it. So I advise you, from thefirst, to avoid shaking hands. But all these precautions do not obviatethe greatest difficulty of all,--your voice. Do you suppose, for amoment, he will not recognise that?"
"I shall take the bull by the horns in that case," said Jane, "and youmust help me. Explain the fact to me now, as you might do if I werereally Nurse Rosemary Gray, and had a voice so like my own."
The doctor smiled. "My dear Nurse Rosemary," he said, "you must not besurprised if our patient detects a remarkable similarity between yourvoice and that of a mutual friend of his and mine. I have constantlynoticed it myself."
"Indeed, sir," said Jane. "And may I know whose voice mine so closelyresembles?"
"The Honourable Jane Champion's," said the doctor, with the delightfulsmile with which he always spoke to his nurses. "Do you know her?"
"Slightly," said Jane, "and I hope to know her better and better as theyears go by."
Then they both laughed. "Thank you, Dicky. Now I shall know what to sayto the patient.--Ah, but the misery of it! Think of it being possiblethus to deceive Garth,--Garth of the bright, keen all--perceivingvision! Shall I ever have the courage to carry it through?"
"If you value your own eventual happiness and his you will, dear. Andnow I must order the brougham and speed you to Portland Place, or youwill be late--for dinner, a thing the duchess cannot overlook 'as youvery well know,' even in a traveller returned from round the world. Andif you take my advice, you will tell your kind, sensible old aunt thewhole story, omitting of course all moonlight details, and consult herabout this plan. Her shrewd counsel will be invaluable, and you may beglad of her assistance later on."
They rose and faced each other on the hearth-rug.
"Boy," said Jane with emotion, "you have been so good to me, and sofaithful. Whatever happens, I shall be grateful always."
"Hush," said the doctor. "No need for gratitude when long-standingdebts are paid.--To-morrow I shall not have a free moment, and Iforesee the next day as very full also. But we might dine together atEuston at seven, and I will see you off. Your train leaves at eighto'clock, getting you to Aberdeen soon after seven the next morning, andout to Gleneesh in time for breakfast. You will enjoy arriving in theearly morning light; and the air of the moors braces youwonderfully.--Thank you, Stoddart. Miss Champion is ready. Hullo,Flower! Look up, Jane. Flower, and Dicky, and Blossom, are hanging overthe topmost banisters, dropping you showers of kisses. Yes, the riveryou mentioned does produce a veritable 'garden of the Lord.' God sendyou the same, dear. And now, sit well back, and lower your veil. Ah, Iremember, you don't wear them. Wise girl! If all women followed yourexample it would impoverish the opticians. Why? Oh, constant focussingon spots, for one thing. But lean back, for you must not be seen if youare supposed to be still in Cairo, waiting to go up the Nile. And, lookhere"--the doctor put his head in at the carriage window--"very plainluggage, mind. The sort of thing nurses speak of as 'my box'; with avery obvious R. G. on it!"
"Thank you, Boy," whispered Jane. "You think of everything."
"I think of YOU," said the doctor. And in all the hard days to come,Jane often found comfort in remembering those last quiet words.
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