Fairy Fingers Part 79

"He did desire,--he even asked for you,--but my grandmother was inflexible."

"Maurice, I must,--must go to him, if he wishes to see me. I understand his wants so well,--I must, must go to him! Madame de Gramont may treat me as she will; but if he wants me, I must go to him!"

Madeleine was so carried away by her strong impulse to reach one to whom she knew her presence was essential, that she was less reasonable than usual, and it was with some difficulty that Maurice pacified her. But to resign herself to the inevitable, however hard, was one of the first duties of her life, and after awhile her composure was partially restored, and, bidding Bertha and Maurice adieu, she drove home.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

THE NEW ENGLAND NURSE.

Madeleine, in spite of the positive denial she had received, experienced as strong a desire to be near her afflicted relative as though his yearning for her presence drew her to him by some species of powerful magnetism. The wildest plans careered through her brain. She thought of the days in Paris when she had so successfully a.s.sumed the garb of the _soeur de bon secours_, and kept nightly vigils beside the bed of Maurice. Was there no disguise under which she could make her way to the count? But the doubt that she could elude the countess's scrutinizing eyes,--the certainty of the violent scene which must ensue if Madame de Gramont discovered her,--made her reluctantly relinquish the attempt.

Then she clung to the hope that her aunt would not, while Count Tristan lay in so perilous a condition, insist upon discharging Mrs. Lawkins.

All uncertainty upon that head was quickly dispelled by the appearance of Mrs. Lawkins herself. The countess had peremptorily repeated her sentence of banishment, and refused to listen to her grandson's entreaties that she might be permitted to remain until a subst.i.tute could be procured. To search for that subst.i.tute was the sole work left for Madeleine's hands. She despatched the willing housekeeper to make inquiries among her acquaintances, and charged her to spare neither time nor expense. Few Europeans can imagine the difficulty of executing such a commission in America; but the Englishwoman had lived in Washington long enough to know that she had no light labor before her. She was too zealous, however, to return home until she had found a person who was fully qualified to fill her vacant post.

Maurice was sitting beside Madeleine when Mrs. Lawkins returned from her weary peregrinations and made known her success.

"I did not send for the nurse to come here," said Madeleine. "It seemed to me better for you, Maurice, to go and see her and engage her to enter upon her duties to-morrow morning. That will give you an opportunity this evening of preparing the countess for her reception."

Maurice acted upon Madeleine's suggestion, and, after a very brief conversation with Mrs. Gratacap, secured her services.

Mrs. Gratacap belonged to the "Eastern States," albeit the very opposite of _oriental_ in her appearance and characteristics. She was a tall, angular, grave-visaged person, possessing such decided, common-place good sense that she came under the head of that feminine cla.s.s which d.i.c.kens has taught the world to designate as "strong-minded." There was no "stuff and nonsense" about her; she had a due appreciation of her own estimable attributes, as well as a firm conviction of the equality of all mankind, or, more especially, _womankind_. When she accepted a situation, it was in the conscientious belief that the persons whom she undertook to serve were the indebted party; yet she was a faithful nurse and both understood and liked her vocation. In spite of her masculine bearing toward the rest of the world, she always treated her invalid charges with womanly gentleness.

When Maurice informed his grandmother that he had obtained a new _garde malade_, the countess at once asked,--

"Are you attempting to introduce another spy of Mademoiselle de Gramont into my dwelling?"

Maurice controlled his indignation and replied, "My cousin Madeleine has never seen this person. I hope she will suit, as I have engaged her for a month, that being the custom here; even if she does not meet _all_ our requirements, we cannot discharge her until that period has elapsed."

"I shall not consent to any such stipulation," answered the countess.

"If she does not please me, I shall order her to leave at once."

"The arrangement is already concluded," returned Maurice; "it is the only one I could make, and you cannot but see that it is a matter of honor, as well as of necessity, to abide by the contract."

Maurice evinced tact in his choice of language. The imposing words "honor" and "contract" made an impression upon the countess, and she said no more.

The next day, shortly after the morning meal, the sound of sharp tones echoing through the entry, was followed by the noisy opening of the countess' drawing-room door.

"This is the place, is it?" cried a harsh voice. "I say, boy, bring along that box and dump it down here."

Mrs. Gratacap entered with a bandbox in one hand, and in the other a huge umbrella and huger bundle, while the box (which was a compromise between a trunk and a packing-case) was carried in without further ceremony. Mrs. Gratacap was attired with an exemplary regard for _utility_; her garments were too short to be soiled by contact with the mud, and disclosed Amazonian feet encased in st.u.r.dy boots, to say nothing of respectable ankles protected by gray stockings. Her dress was of a sombre hue and chargeable with no unnecessary amplitude; where it was pulled up at the sides a gray balmoral petticoat was visible; crinoline had been scrupulously renounced (as it should be in a sick-chamber); the coal-skuttle bonnet performed its legitimate duty in shading her face as well as covering her head.

The countess might well look up in stupefied amazement; for she had never before been thrown into communication with humanity so strikingly primitive, and so complacently self-confident.

"This is the nurse of whom I spoke," was Maurice's introduction.

Mrs. Gratacap who had been too busily engaged in looking after her "properties" to perceive the viscount until he spoke, now strode forward, extended her hand, and shook his with good-humored familiarity.

"How d'ye do? How d'ye do, young man? Here I am, you see, punctual to the moment. Told you you could depend on me. Well, and where's the poor dear? And who's _this_, and who's _that_?" looking first at the countess and then at Bertha.

Maurice was forced to answer, "That is Madame de Gramont, my grandmother, and this is Mademoiselle de Merrivale, my cousin."

"Ah, very good! How are you, ma'am? Glad to see you, miss!" said Mrs.

Gratacap, nodding first to one and then to the other. "Guess we shall get along famously together."

Then, totally unawed by the countess' glacial manner, for Mrs. Gratacap had never dreamed of being afraid of "mortal man," to say nothing of "mortal woman," she disenc.u.mbered herself of her bandbox, bundle, and umbrella, deliberately took off the ample hat and tossed it upon the table, sending her shawl to keep it company, walked up to Madame de Gramont, placed a chair immediately in front of her, and sat down.

"Well, and how's the poor dear? It's a pretty bad case, I hear. Never mind,--don't be down in the mouth. I've brought folks through after the nails were ready to be driven into their coffins. Nothing like keeping a stiff upper lip. Your son, isn't he? Dare say he'll do well enough with a little nursing. Let's know when he was taken, and how he's been getting on, and what crinks and cranks he's got. Sick folks always have crumpled ways. Post me up a bit before I go in to him."

The countess's piercing black eyes were fixed upon the voluble nurse with a look of absolute horror, and she never moved her lips.

Maurice came to the rescue.

"My father has been ill nearly a month; he was attacked with apoplexy; he had a second stroke yesterday."

"You don't say so? That's bad! Two strokes, eh? We must look out and prevent a third; that's a dead go; but often it don't come for years. No need of borrowing trouble,--worse than borrowing money."

"Let me show you to my father's apartment," said Maurice, to relieve his grandmother.

"All right,--I'm ready! And then you'll let me see where I am to stow my duds; any corner will do, but I must have a cupboard of a place all to myself; it need only be big enough to swing a cat round in. It isn't much comfort I want, but a hole of my own I always bargain for. Aren't you coming along?" she said, looking back at the countess, who sat still.

Madame de Gramont did not betray that she even suspected these words were addressed to her, nor that she heard those which followed, though they were spoken in a stage-whisper which could hardly escape her ears.

"Is your granny always so glum? We must cheer her up a bit," was Mrs.

Gratacap's encouraging comment.

The nurse's high-pitched voice was softened to a lower key when she entered the apartment where Count Tristan lay, and there were genuine compa.s.sion and motherly tenderness in her look as she regarded him. She continued to question Maurice until she had learned something of the patient's history,--not from sheer curiosity, but because she always took a deep interest in the invalids placed under her charge, and by becoming acquainted with their peculiarities she could better adapt herself to their necessities.

One word only can express the countess's sensations at the dropping of such a "monstrosity" into the midst of her family circle,--she was appalled! Never had any one ventured to address her with such freedom; never before had she been treated by any one as though she were mere flesh and blood. She had not believed it possible that any one could have the temerity to regard her in the light of equality. One might almost have imagined that the formidable New England nurse had inspired her with dread, for she could not rouse herself, could not gain courage to face the intruder, and, during that day, never once approached her son's chamber. But Mrs. Gratacap, in the most unconscious manner, made repeated invasions into the drawing-room, and even extended her sallies to the countess's own chamber, always upon some plausible pretext,--now to inquire where she could find the sugar, or the spoons, now to beg for a pair of scissors, or to ask where the vinegar-cruet was kept, or to learn how the countess managed about heating bricks, or getting bottles of hot water to warm the patient's feet!

The countess, compelled by these intrusions to address the enemy, and galled by the necessity, said sternly, "Go to the servants and get what is needful."

"Law sakes! You needn't take my head off! I haven't got any other and can't spare it!" answered Mrs. Gratacap, not in the least abashed. "I don't want to go bothering hotel help; I always keep out of their way, for they have a holy horror of us nurses, and the fuss most of us make; though I am not one of that sort. I leave the help alone and help myself considerable; and what I want I manage to get from the folks I live with. That's my way, and I don't think it's a bad way. I've had it for thirty odd years that I've been nursing; and I don't think I shall change it in thirty more."

She flounced out of the room after this declaration, leaving the countess in a state which Mrs. Gratacap herself would have described as "quite upset;" but the haughty lady had scarcely time to recover her equanimity before the strong-minded nurse returned to the attack.

The countess had retreated to her own room; but Mrs. Gratacap broke in upon her, crying out, "I say, when will that young man be back? He's gone off without telling me when he'd be at his post again."

Madame de Gramont's usual refuge was in silence, ignoring that she heard; but here it was not likely to avail, for she saw that the unawed nurse would probably stand her ground, and repeat her question until she received an answer. The countess, therefore, forced herself to inquire in a severe tone,--

"Whom do you mean?"

"Why, the young man, your grandson, to be sure! A very spry young fellow. I like his looks mightily."

If Madame de Gramont had been an adept in reading countenances she would have read in the nurse's face, "I cannot say as much for his grandmother's;" but the proud lady was not skilled in this humble art, and never even suspected that a person in Mrs. Gratacap's lowly station would dare to pa.s.s judgment upon one in her lofty position. She replied, with increased austerity,--

"I am not in the habit of hearing the Viscount de Gramont; my grandson, mentioned in this unceremonious manner; it may be the mode adopted in this uncivilized country, but it is offensive."