An Adventuress, an electronic edition
- CHAPTER XXXI
by L.T. Meade [ Meade, L.T., 1854-1914]
date: 1899
source publisher: Chatto & Windus
collection: Genre Fiction
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CHAPTER XXXI
IT was late in the afternoon when Kate re-entered the house. Ethel had already arrived, but according to her promise to her cousin, had said nothing about having met her. Ethel and her mother were talking in the drawing-room when Kate slipped softly upstairs. She turned in the direction of the west wing, which had been given up absolutely to the requirements of the sick man. Nurse Bryan was looking out for her.
"Where have you been, madam?" she said. "Your husband has been extremely ill, and quite wild, but this last hour he is a little calmer, and has asked for you. Will you go and sit with him now? Oh, please, not like that," continued the woman. "Take off your hat, and smooth your hair. You must exercise self-control. You can sit by the bedside, if you will not talk; you can hold his hand and look at him. He loves you very much, madam. He has been distressed at your not coming to him."
"I will be in the room in a moment," said Kate. She ran into her bedroom, quickly smoothed back her hair, changed her outdoor shoes for soft velvet slippers, and entered the sick-room. She had plenty of tact, and, now that she had entered the house without any one specially observing her, felt a certain sense of relief. It was a great comfort, too, to know that Ralph had asked for her. Perhaps his illness would be of short duration. Oh, the doctors were | | 304 so often wrong. Perhaps he would be well enough to go, not on board the Hydra, but on the next boat which would leave in a week's time.
Kate calculated quickly. Could she avert discovery for another week? Would the precipice on which she was standing not crumble away for one week longer? She wondered--she doubted--she knew the extreme, the absolute danger in which she had placed herself. If only Ralph could be well in a week. She sat down now, and turned her flushed face and bright eyes upon him. He was very ill, but he had lucid moments, and one of these had come to him. He feebly stretched out his burning hand and let it lie for a moment in hers.
"Little--little--darling Kitty," he said. The words dropped from his lips. Kate was not little, but it was one of his endearing names for her. Her eyes filled with tears, a great wave of intense affection for the man whom she had deceived and yet whom she worshipped rushed over her.
"Oh, Ralph, get better, get better," she said. She did not sob, but there was an intensity in her words. She seemed to infuse strength into the sick man. He turned his head feebly.
"No talking please, Mrs. Henley," said the nurse, who was seated by a distant window.
Kate ground her teeth, her lips formed an angry charming pout. Ralph, ill as he was, gave a feeble smile.
"Little rebel," he said, then he closed his eyes, and a moment or two later was rambling off once more in the world of delirium. Alas, and alas, he was not better. Kate went up to the nurse.
"Why does he breathe so quickly?" she said. | | 305 "It seems as if there must be a great weight on his chest."
"He is very ill, very ill, madam," said the nurse. She spoke sternly. She had felt great pity for Mrs. Henley, but her extraordinary absence, absence for hours while her husband's life hung in the balance, was too much for the nurse's sense of decorum.
"She does not love him; she is so handsome and wilful that doubtless she has got tired of him," thought the good woman. "I have no patience with her, and he is as nice a gentleman as I ever had the nursing of."
Finally the nurse motioned Kate out of the room.
"Your husband's quick breathing distresses you," she said; "he is suffering extremely. The case points to the strongest blood-poisoning. I doubt very much if it is typhoid. Anyhow it is a most alarming case."
"Oh, why do you terrify me?" said Kate. "Why do you speak like that? Is there no hope? Oh, there is Dr. Thornton; oh, I am glad to see him!"
Dr. Thornton was coming upstairs. He was accompanied by the great specialist, Dr. Bennett Shaw. The nurse bustled about importantly. She was much interested in her case, but she would not have been human if she had not given herself little airs on the great event of a consultation.
"You must not be present, madam," she said; "the doctors do not wish it. Do you mind staying in your own bedroom or in this sitting-room until they come out again?"
"Don't attempt to order me," said Kate in the haughtiest voice.
"Dr. Thornton, I must speak to you."
Dr. Thornton and the specialist both entered a sitting-room, accompanied by Kate.
| | 306"May I introduce Mrs. Henley?" said the doctor, turning to the specialist.
Dr. Bennett Shaw bowed--he was taking Kate in from head to foot.
"Highly sensitive, nervous, overwrought," was his quick mental comment. "I hope she won't have much to do in the sick-room. These sort of women do no end of mischief in a case of this sort."
"You are the doctor who has come to see my husband. You are the great specialist who--who saves people's lives at the last moment," said Kate.
"Under God, madam, I have sometimes effected cures," said the doctor; "but come, my time is precious--I want to see the patient."
"One moment, first. You must save him, or if there is no hope at all you must tell me the truth. I will hear the truth--you have got to tell it to me."
"There is no reason why I should not tell the truth to this lady, is there, Thornton?" said the specialist.
"None whatever, if she wishes to hear it," replied Dr. Thornton.
"I will wait here until you come out again; I must know the truth," said Kate. She turned and stood with her face to the window. She was looking out but she did not see anything. She heard the steps of the doctors dying away in the corridor, she heard them enter the sick-room and shut the door behind them. Then there came what seemed like an eternity to the waiting, distracted, anxious woman.
"Oh, of course Ralph would die, of course there was not the slightest doubt that he would die, and leave her. I cannot see him die," she said to herself, "I cannot stand it. When he dies all will be up. | | 307 I shall be able to keep the truth to myself no longer; oh, he must not, he must not die! and yet, and yet I know he will die. Oh, I saw death on his face, and the nurse thinks badly of him, and Dr. Thornton looked very grave, and as to that other man--oh, has he any feeling at all. Oh, I hate him. Why am I left here so long in suspense? I shall go mad, I shall go mad. In all the wide world, was there ever such a wretched, miserable woman as I am!"
She fell on her knees; she dug her hands into her hair, she pulled it out in handfuls. She struggled to her feet--she was almost beside herself. Then there came a quiet voice in her ears, and Dr. Thornton stood before her.
"Will you see Bennett Shaw now?" he asked. There was something very quiet and very sorrowful in his voice, and he avoided meeting her eyes.
"Yes, I will see him. Why doesn't he come in--what is he afraid of?" said Kate.
The specialist entered; he shut the door behind him. Kate felt that she was a new patient--her husband was a physical one, she was a mental. They had doomed him to death, of that she was certain, and they were now going to drag her heart out of her breast. She stood and faced both men with dilating eyes--her breath came pantingly.
"Oh, doctor, I know you think the very worst, but do please tell me the truth," she gasped.
"I have something very painful to tell you," said Dr. Shaw. "Your husband is most dangerously ill."
"Dangerously ill? I know that, but is there any hope?"
"There is scarcely any hope. In cases like the present while there is life there is always hope, but | | 308 certain symptoms have arisen which make it extremely doubtful if your husband will hold out till the morning."
"Until the morning? Must he die so soon? He was quite well forty-eight hours ago."
"It is a quick case of the most aggravated blood poisoning. I have given certain directions, a certain remedy will be tried, but I must frankly say that there is--"
"Oh, say it and have done," said Kate. "You mean there is no hope?"
"Not quite that, Mrs. Henley, but there is so little hope that you must be prepared for the worst."
"I may stay with him--you will not send me away from him?"
"Nothing that you do can hurt him; he is past all that. He has already sunk into a comatose condition. Whether he wakes from that state is doubtful, but we are trying a certain remedy, and Dr. Thornton will sit up with the patient to-night."
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