Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the peopleEverett-Green, Evelyn
General
Eustace Marchmont: A friend of the people
Everett-Green, Evelyn
West Country (England) -- Fiction
“That is good, very good, Lady Bride,” he said; “I can see what is the
medicine our patient wants. You have done more for him in a minute than
I have been able to do all these hours. We want him to get a grip on
life again--just to help him to hold on to it till Nature can make up
for the terrible exhaustion of those hours in the water. Now look here,
it’s most important he should take the hot soup and the cordial nurse
has over there. We can’t get more than a few drops down at a time, but
perhaps you will be more successful. We are keeping up the animal heat
by outward applications, but we must keep the furnace inside going
still. Try what you can do for him, my dear. I think you have made him
understand as we have not succeeded in doing yet.”
The nurse came to the bedside with cup and spoon, and Bride took them
from her hand. With a gentle tenderness almost like that of a mother
she bent over Eustace, raised his head as she had been wont to do for
her mother in her long last illness, and gave him what the doctor bade
her.
He swallowed it without a murmur, perfectly understanding her voice
and touch. Three or four spoonsful were taken in this way, the doctor
looking on and slightly rubbing his hands.
“If you can stay with him two hours, and feed him like that every ten
minutes, Lady Bride,” he said, “I think we shall see a change for the
better by that time. Everything depends on keeping up the vital power.
It was down to the very lowest ebb when he was brought in. If he had
not the most magnificent constitution, he could never have survived all
that exposure. It will be everything if he can be kept up. Will you be
his nurse for to-day, and keep guard over him? You can do more than all
the rest of us put together. Are you willing?”
Bride desired nothing better. She had hardly dared to let herself hope
to see Eustace for many days, and here she was established beside him
as head-nurse, and the person most needful to his recovery. Her heart
bounded within her as the doctor and Mr. Tremodart stole away together
to visit the other patient, and she found herself left in charge of her
lover.
Yes, she called him so now without hesitation or fear. She had long
known that love was stealing more and more into her heart, and latterly
she had not been afraid to face the thought and to follow it to its
conclusion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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