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Page 43
And while she had been idling in the country, this man, whom she had
known since her girlhood better and longer than any of her few
acquaintances, had been struck down, and day by day had weakened and
sickened and wasted, until now, at any hour, at any moment, the life
might be snuffed out like the fight of a spent candle. What a miserable
incompetent had she been! That day in the park when she had come upon
him, so weak and broken and far spent, why had she not, with all her
training and experience, known that even then the flame was flickering
down to the socket, that a link in the silver chain was weakening? Now,
perhaps, it was too late. But quick her original obstinacy rose up in
protest. No! she would not yield the life. No, no, no; again and a
thousand times no! He belonged to her. Others she had saved, others far
less dear to her than Ferriss. Her last patient--the little girl--she
had caught back from death at the eleventh hour, and of all men would
she not save Ferriss? In such sickness as this it was the nurse and not
the doctor who must be depended upon. And, once again, never so strong,
never so fine, never so glorious, her splendid independence, her pride
in her own strength, her indomitable self-reliance leaped in her breast,
leaped and stood firm, hard as tempered steel, head to the Enemy, daring
the assault, defiant, immovable, unshaken in its resolve, unconquerable
in the steadfast tenacity of its purpose.
The story that Ferriss had told to Bennett, that uncalled-for and
inexplicable falsehood, was a thing forgotten. Death stood at the
bed-head, and in that room the little things of life had no place. The
king was holding court, and the swarm of small, everyday issues, like a
crowd of petty courtiers, were not admitted to his presence. Ferriss'
life was in danger. Lloyd saw no more than that. At once she set about
the work.
In a few rapid sentences exchanged in low voices between her and the
doctor Lloyd made herself acquainted with the case.
"We've been using the ice-pack and wet-pack to bring down the
temperature in place of the cold bath," the doctor explained. "I'm
afraid of pericarditis."
"Quinine?" inquired Lloyd.
"From twenty to forty grains in the morning and evening. Here's the
temperature chart for the last week. If we reach this point in axilla
again--" he indicated one hundred and two degrees with a
thumb-nail--"we'll have to risk the cold bath, but only in that case."
"And the tympanites?"
Dr. Pitts put his chin in the air.
"Grave--there's an intestinal ulcer, no doubt of it, and if it
perforates--well, we can send for the undertaker then."
"Has he had hemorrhages?"
"Two in the first week, but not profuse--he seemed to rally fairly well
afterward. We have been injecting ether in case of anemia. Really, Miss
Searight, the case is interesting, but wicked, wicked as original sin.
Killed off my first nurse out of hand--good little boy, conscientious
enough; took no care of himself; ate his meals in the sick-room against
my wishes; off he went--dicrotic pulse, diarrhea, vomiting, hospital,
thrombosis of pulmonary artery, _pouf_, requiescat."
"And Miss Wakeley?"
"Knocked under yesterday, and she was fairly saturated with creolin
night and morning. I don't know how it happened.... Well, God for us
all. Here he is--that's the point for us." He glanced toward the bed,
and for the third time Lloyd looked at the patient.
Ferriss was in a quiet delirium, and, at intervals, from behind his
lips, dry and brown and fissured, there came the sounds of low and
indistinct muttering. Barring a certain prominence of the cheek-bones,
his face was not very wasted, but its skin was a strange, dusky pallor.
The cold pack was about his head like a sort of caricatured crown.
"Well," repeated Pitts in a moment, "I've been waiting for you to come
to get a little rest. Was up all last night. Suppose you take over
charge."
Lloyd nodded her head, removing her hat and gloves, making herself
ready. Pitts gave her some final directions, and left her alone in the
sick-room. For the moment there was nothing to do for the patient. Lloyd
put on her hospital slippers and moved silently about the room,
preparing for the night, and making some few changes in the matter of
light and ventilation. Then for a while the medicine occupied her
attention, and she was at some pains to carefully sort out the
antiseptic and disinfectants from the drugs themselves. These latter she
arranged on a table by themselves--studying the labels--assuring herself
of their uses. Quinine for the regular morning and evening doses,
sulphonal and trional for insomnia, ether for injections in case of
anemia after hemorrhage, morphine for delirium, citrite of caffeine for
weakness of the heart, tincture of valerian for the tympanites, bismuth
to relieve nausea and vomiting, and the crushed ice wrapped in flannel
cloths for the cold pack in the event of hyperpyrexia.
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