The Grey Room by Eden Phillpotts


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Page 9

"Mary took to her, and really seemed easier after she had been in
the sick-room an hour. She loved young people, and had an art to
win them. She was also a most accomplished and quick-witted nurse.
There seemed to be quite a touch of genius about her. Her voice
was melodious and her touch gentle. I could appreciate her skill,
for I was never far from my daughter's side during that anxious
day. Mrs. Forrester came at the critical hours, but declared
herself very sanguine from the first.

"Night fell; the child was sleeping and Jane Bond arrived to
relieve the other about ten o'clock. Then the lady retired,
directed that she should be called at seven o'clock, or at any
moment sooner, if Jane wanted her. I sat with Jane I remember
until two, and then turned in myself. Before I did so, Mary drank
some milk and seemed to be holding her strength well. I was worn
out, and despite my anxiety fell into deep sleep, and did not wake
until my man called me half an hour earlier than usual. What he
told me brought me quickly to my senses and out of bed. Nurse
Forrester had been called at seven o'clock, but had not responded.
Nor could the maid open the door, for it was locked. A quarter
of an hour later the housekeeper and Jane Bond had loudly summoned
her without receiving any reply. Then they called me.

"I could only direct that the door should be forced open as speedily
as possible, and we were engaged in this task when Mannering, my
medical man, who shot with us to-day, arrived to see Mary. I told
him what had happened. He went in to look at my girl, and felt
satisfied that she was holding her own well--indeed, he thought
her stronger; and just as he told me so the door into the Grey Room
yielded. Mannering and my housekeeper, Mrs. Forbes, entered the
room, while Masters, Fred Caunter, my footman, who had broken down
the lock, and I remained outside.

"The doctor presently called me, and I went in. Nurse Forrester was
apparently lying awake in bed, but she was not awake. She slept
the sleep of death. Her eyes were open, but glazed, and she was
already cold. Mannering declared that she had been dead for a good
many hours. Yet, save for a slight but hardly unnatural pallor,
not a trace of death marked the poor little creature. An expression
of wonder seemed to sit on her features, but otherwise she was
looking much as I had last seen her, when she said 'Good-night.'
Everything appeared to be orderly in the room. It was now flooded
with the first light of a sunny morning, for she had drawn her
blind up and thrown her window wide open. The poor lady passed out
of life without a sound or signal to indicate trouble, for in the
silence of night Jane Bond must have heard any alarm had she raised
one. To me it seemed impossible to believe that we gazed upon a
corpse. But so it was, though, as a matter of form, the doctor
took certain measures to restore her. But animation was not
suspended; it had passed beyond recall.

"There was held a post-mortem examination, and an inquest, of
course; and Mannering, who felt deep professional interest, asked
a friend from Plymouth to conduct the examination. Their report
astounded all concerned and crowned the mystery, for not a trace
of any physical trouble could be discovered to explain Nurse
Forrester's death. She was thin, but organically sound in every
particular, nor could the slightest trace of poison be reported.
Life had simply left her without any physical reason. Search
proved that she had brought no drugs or any sort of physic with her,
and no information to cast the least light came from the institution
for which she worked. She was a favorite there, and the news of
her sudden death brought sorrow to her many personal friends.

"The physicians felt their failure to find a natural and scientific
cause for her death. Indeed, Dr. Mordred, from Plymouth, an eminent
pathologist, trembled not a little about it, as Mannering afterwards
told me. The finite mind of science hates, apparently, to be faced
with any mystery beyond its power to explain. It regards such an
incident as a challenge to human intellect, and does not remember
that we are encompassed with mystery as with a garment, and that
every day and every night are laden with phenomena for which man
cannot account, and never will.

"Nurse Forrester's relations--a sister and an old mother--came to
the funeral. Also her dearest woman friend, another professional
nurse, whose name I do not recollect. She was buried at Chadlands,
and her grave lies near our graves. Mary loves to tend it still,
though to her the dead woman is but a name. Yet to this day she
declares that she can remember Nurse Forrester's voice through her
fever--gentle, yet musical and cheerful. As for me, I never
mourned so brief an acquaintance so heartily. To part with the
bright creature, so full of life and kindliness, and to stand beside
her corpse but eight or nine hours afterwards, was a chastening and
sad experience."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Sun 16th Mar 2025, 7:45