“We didn't get to the hospital until nine, so I've not seen much of it
yet. The housekeeper gave me tea and told me I might go over the house,
as I wouldn't be wanted to begin duty before morning. So for an hour I
went from ward to ward like a female Wandering Jew. Such silence! I'm
afraid this hospital nursing is going to be a lockjaw business. And now
I'm going to bed--well, not homesick, you know, but just 'longing a lil
bit for all.' To-morrow morning I'll waken up to new sounds and sights,
and when I draw my blind I'll see the streets where the cars are forever
running and rattling. Then I'll think of Glenfaba and the birds singing
and rejoicing.
“Dispense my love throughout the island. Say that I love everybody just
the same now I'm a London lady as when I was a mere provincial girl, and
that when I'm a wonderful woman, and have brought the eyes of England
upon me, I'll come back and make amends. I can hear what grandfather is
saying: 'Gough bless me, what a girl, though!' Glory.
“P. S.--I've not said much about Mr. Storm. He left me at the door of
the hospital and went on to the house of his vicar, for that is where
he is to lodge, you know. On the way up I expended much beautiful poetry
upon him on the subject of love. The old girlies having dozed off, I
chanced to ask him if he liked to talk of it, but he said no, it was a
profanation. Love was too sacred, it was a kind of religion. Sometimes
it came unawares, sometimes it smouldered like fire under ashes,
sometimes it was a good angel, sometimes a devil, making you do things
and say things, and laying your life waste like winter. But I told
him it was just charming, and as for religion, there was nothing under
heaven like the devotion of a handsome and clever man to a handsome and
clever woman, when he gave up all the world for her, and his body and
his soul and everything that was his. I think he saw there was something
in that, for though he said nothing, there came a wonderful light
into his splendid eyes, and I thought if he wasn't going to be a
clergyman--but no matter. So long, dear!”
IV.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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