Jen quailed before his stern look. “She talked to us at the window. She said—if Joan could do it, why shouldn’t she? Oh, please tell us! She didn’t catch cold, did she?”
“Impossible to say yet. She isn’t at all well; her temperature has risen in an alarming way. How long was she at the window?”
Jen’s eyes fell and she stared at her shoes.
Jack came and stood beside her. “Don’t be an ass! We must tell him.” She looked up at Dr. Brown. “Joy only talked to us for two minutes, because we wouldn’t stay. We came inside and left her. But she was hanging out of the window, looking for us, when we came into the garden. We can’t possibly say how long she’d been there. We said just enough to satisfy her, so that she’d go back to bed, and then we came away. That’s all we can tell you about it.”
“Thank you. You are——?”
“Jacqueline Wilmot. My father is Dr. Wilmot. I know one must help doctors by telling them everything.”
He nodded. “It was you who told the nurse? Very wise and right!” He turned to Mrs. Shirley. “I shall send in the second nurse, and she can ring me up at any time. That girl must be watched to-night. Send for me, if you want me; I can’t do more than the nurse can, but I’ll come if it will be any comfort to you.”
“You are very kind,” Mrs. Shirley said with trembling lips.
The girls looked at one another and stood as if turned to stone, till he had gone. Then, with a low wail, Jen ran into Mrs. Shirley’s arms.
“Another nurse? Then Joy is worse. Oh, is it going to be pneumonia? Oh, why did she do it?”
“Because she’s Joy, and a silly ass,” Jack muttered.
Mrs. Shirley sat wearily on a big settle. “Jen dear, we must be brave. It hasn’t happened yet. The doctor is a little anxious, but he hopes Joy will be better by the morning.”
“But—two nurses, Auntie Shirley?”
“That doesn’t mean much. Nurse Parker has been on duty all day; she can’t sit up all night too, and Dr. Brown wants somebody to be with Joy, to watch her. He won’t hear of my doing it, and Joan isn’t strong enough yet, so we must have more help. That’s all it means, Jen.”
“Very sensible,” Jack said. “Buck up, silly! It may be only for one night.”
“I see that,” Jen agreed unsteadily. “I had a fright. Perhaps it will be all right to-morrow. Two nurses sounded so awfully serious. Oh, I wish we could be some use!”
“You’ll help us most by giving no trouble to anybody,” Mrs. Shirley explained.
“I know. Nobody has any time to think about us. If we went to bed, that would help, wouldn’t it?” Jen sounded forlorn.
Mrs. Shirley smiled. “That’s brave, Jenny-Wren. It is bedtime, isn’t it? I hear you had an early supper. Take milk and biscuits up to your room and have a little feast. What about fruit?”
“I’ll see she does all that,” Jack promised. “How is Joan? Does she know about Joy?”
“We had to tell her. Dr. Brown insisted on looking at her also, and Joan had to know why he had come a second time. She is going on well, but she’s troubled about Joy, of course.”
“I hope it won’t make her ill, too,” Jack said gloomily. “Twins are often odd that way. I know Joan and Joy aren’t twins, but they’re next thing to it.”
“They mean a great deal to one another,” Mrs. Shirley assented.
“Joan’s too sensible to be ill just because Joy is!” Jen said indignantly.
“I don’t mean that,” Jack retorted. “Joan isn’t well. She might not be able to stand a shock, and it would be a shock if Joy had—oh, come and fetch that grub! It’s silly to talk about things that may not happen!”
Jen hugged Mrs. Shirley. “Couldn’t we stay with you? You won’t go to bed! We’d be somebody to talk to!”
“No, dear. If Joan doesn’t sleep I shall sit with her.”
“It’s rotten for you. Why didn’t Joy think?” Jen groaned. “All right; we’ll go to bed. It’s the only thing we can do to help.”
She turned to the door, but came racing back to whisper a last word. “Auntie Shirley, I’ll put a special bit in my prayers about Joy. That’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Shirley kissed her. “Yes, Jen, it will help to know that. Now, good-night, dear.”
“What did you go back to say?” Jack asked, as they waited for cook to bring the milk.
“I should think you could guess,” Jen said. Then, quickly, she told the promise she had made. “You’d better do it too. Two’s sure to be better than one.”
“Right-o! I won’t forget,” Jack said soberly.
When they reached their room Jen drew back the curtains and spread the feast on the window-seat, so that they could look out at the moonlit trees and lawn.
“I don’t care much about talking, but the garden will be company,” she said.
“I thought perhaps you’d tell Mrs. Shirley about the pictures, so that she could tell Joan,” Jack remarked.
Jen shook her head. “They wouldn’t care just now.”
“It would give them something new to talk about.”
“No!” Jen said. “The pictures will be an enormous thrill to Joan. She couldn’t care just now. I’m not going to spoil it for her by telling her at a bad time. I shan’t say anything till Joy’s better.”
“That’s silly. Joan would be glad to have them to think about.”
“Not while she’s miserable. It wouldn’t be fair.”
Jack shrugged her shoulders. “I think you’re soft. Joan would like to know. I’ve a good mind to write to her and tell her all about it.”
“If you do I shall never speak to you again,” Jen said simply. “Don’t be an ass, Jacky-boy! You couldn’t pinch my story. It is my story! I know Sir Keith would say so.”
“Because of your courage and honesty, I suppose?” Jack jeered.
“Idiot!” Jen said, and stared out at the trees.
Jack glanced at her and was silent for a while. “It’s been a queer day,” she ventured at last.
“That’s just what I was thinking. It’s been the sort of day we’d never want to forget; Sir Keith—and all his stories of old things and old times—and the pictures and my locket—and Timothy and Mr. Simmonds. It’s been a marvellous day. And Joy’s spoilt it all—for it was her own fault, Jack.”
“Oh, definitely—absolutely. It wasn’t anything to do with us. I’m glad Dr. Brown saw that.”
“Let’s go to bed,” Jen said heavily. “It’s no use talking. Nobody will tell us any more till the morning.”
But to sleep was impossible. Each knew that the other was awake and listening. Doors were opened and closed gently; steps passed along the corridor; someone went to the bathroom. Everything was quiet for a time, then the subdued stir began again. Somebody went downstairs.
Jen slipped out of bed and crept across the room, while Jack sat up and watched her dim figure. She opened the door softly and stood, holding her breath.
With almost a sob she closed the door and tiptoed back to bed.
“Well?” Jack jerked.
“Somebody telephoned. They’ve sent for the doctor. Jack!” Jen said desperately. “I’m coming into your bed.”
“Come on. We’ll stick together.” Jack’s tone was muffled.
“We can’t go and ask. It would worry people. We’ve got to bear it and keep out of the way,” Jen gasped. “It means Joy’s worse, of course.” She buried her head in Jack’s pillow.
“Might not,” Jack struggled to cheer her. “Might be something else.”
“If it’s pneumonia, will Joy die?” Jen was trembling. “A farmer near us at home had it, and he died in two days. Tell me, Jack! You know more than I do.”
“I don’t know much. Pneumonia’s sometimes like that, a matter of two or three days. But it might not be with Joy. She’s just a kid; she ought to be able to stand it.”
“She isn’t strong, and she’s got measles already,” Jen whispered.
“I k
now. It’s beastly.”
“It couldn’t be much worse, it seems to me,” Jen choked. “And it was because she wanted to speak to us. I know we couldn’t help it, but it was that.”
“It wasn’t,” Jack contradicted. “She doesn’t care that much about us. It was because she knew Joan had done it and she wanted to do it too. She said it; she said, ‘If Joan can, why shouldn’t I?’ Now that was like Joy; what you said wasn’t like her at all.”
“Oh, I wish she hadn’t!” Jen wailed.
CHAPTER XX
A TERRIBLE DAY
“There’s the car. They did phone for the doctor.” Jen raised her head.
“That’s a good thing. Something to be thankful for,” Jack said firmly. “It’s all right now he’s here. He’ll take charge; she’ll be safe now.”
“You are comforting, Jacky-boy!” Jen whispered.
They lay listening, but it seemed a long while before the car drove away.
“Oh, I wonder how she is!” Jen almost sobbed.
Jack was very drowsy. “She’s all right, or he wouldn’t have gone. We’ll hear in the morning. Go to sleep; make to-morrow come sooner. It’s almost light. There’s the first bird waking up.” Her voice died away and she slept.
Jen quivered, but struggled to keep still for her companion’s sake; she could not bear to leave Jack and lie alone in her own bed. Far away in the orchard, in the dim light, she could hear the early blackbird beginning his waking song; another answered, and the thrushes in the garden joined in the chorus. A noisy chirping of sparrows and calling of starlings began.
Jen sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Why am I in your bed, Jacky-boy? Oh!” as she remembered. “Oh, poor old Joy! We were awake for hours, listening; but we must have gone to sleep. Jack’s not awake yet.”
She looked down at Jack’s smooth round head. “Dear old cricket ball! There’s a lot of sense in it. She’s sound asleep. I wonder if I could crawl out without waking her?”
She drew herself away carefully and slipped to the floor. Jack muttered impatiently, then snuggled down and slept again.
Jen crept to her own bed and pulled on stockings and soft slippers and a dressing-gown. Pushing back her loosened plaits she stole to the door, opened it quietly and tiptoed down the corridor.
The house was still and silent. She was more than anxious not to disturb any one, so she hesitated and wandered wistfully up and down, looking with desperate longing at the closed doors which held so great a secret.
A faint sound, the clink of china, sent her flying down the stairs and into the morning-room.
“Oh! Oh, what marvellous luck!” she gasped. “Oh, please tell me! How is Joy?”
The day-nurse looked up from her breakfast. She had been roused in the middle of the night from her much-needed rest, but had slept again for two hours and was almost ready to go on duty.
The appeal and fear in Jen’s eyes were so acute that her frown vanished and she spoke gently. “My dear, you mustn’t run about undressed. We can’t have any one else ill on our hands. Joy is very ill, but we are doing everything we can, and she is holding her own. Dr. Brown will be here presently. Now go and dress yourself.”
Jen came to her side and leant on the table. “He was here in the night, wasn’t he? We were awake and we heard the car. We didn’t come to ask, but——” Her voice shook.
Nurse Parker had imagination and she understood.
“Don’t be so frightened. It wasn’t for Joy we sent for him, though we were glad that he should have a look at her. I’m sorry to say——”
“Joan?” Jen gasped. “Oh, please! Joan isn’t ill too, is she?”
“Joan is the strongest of them all. You needn’t be nervous about her. Mrs. Shirley collapsed with the strain and anxiety, and I had to go to help. We thought Dr. Brown should see her. She is in bed and is pulling round, but we were troubled about her for a while.”
Jen clung to the high back of a chair and hid her face against it. “Oh, hard lines!” she sobbed. “It’s been too much for her. She isn’t strong. Oh, if only Joy——!”
“Exactly,” the nurse said grimly. “Mrs. Shirley was bearing the strain of the two girls’ illness well, but it told on her, and she was not fit for this new blow. Joy’s temperature was high during the night and she was lightheaded, of course; and it was too much for Mrs. Shirley, who has almost no reserve strength. We hoped—Joan talked to me about her mother and asked me to watch her—to pull her through this period without a breakdown; but this second illness has been too much for her.”
“Isn’t there any way we can help?” Jen asked desperately. “Could I sit with her and fetch you if she needed you? Then you could stay with Joy. Couldn’t you use us somehow?”
Nurse Parker looked thoughtful. To tell the younger girls that they could help best by keeping out of the way would have been sheer cruelty.
“I believe you could be useful,” she said. “Every one will be busy, and we are making a lot of extra work for the maids. If you took on some of their jobs, like washing-up and preparing trays for upstairs, it would relieve them.”
Jen’s face lit up. “And we’d be here on the spot, and we’d have the latest news. I was terrified that you’d say we must go out for the day, to keep the house quiet. We’ll be like mice, if only we can have useful jobs to do!”
“I’ll speak to Grace,” said the nurse, who would much have preferred that they should go out for the day. “Run away and dress, and then come down and fetch your own breakfast from cook. If you don’t need to be waited on, that will help.”
“We’ll wash our dishes afterwards, and we’ll do our bedroom, and then we’ll dust the rooms down here,” Jen said eagerly. “That will be marvellous! Thanks just terribly much!” and she rushed off upstairs to tell Jack, closing her door with great care.
The nurse laughed. “Poor children! It’s a bad time for them too. I’ll ask the maids to find work for them. It will help them more than anything.”
Jack woke to find Jen brushing out her hair.
“Hallo, Rapunzel! Oh, I say! I’d forgotten about Joy. Do you know how she is?” and she sat up anxiously.
Jen parted her long yellow locks and peered at her.
“Bad. I’ve been downstairs, talking to Nurse. Joy was off her head in the night. And there’s worse news. Auntie Shirley had a heart attack; it was for her they wanted the doctor. Nurse didn’t say it was her heart; she said she collapsed, but I suppose that means a heart attack. They were frightened and sent for Dr. Brown.”
“That’s bad,” Jack groaned. “Is she getting over it?”
“I think so. Nurse says she’s pulling round; but she’s in bed, of course. Jack, we’re going to help. Everybody will be busy, with all the extra work. We’re going to do jobs like dusting, and washing-up, and peeling potatoes. You’ll help, won’t you?”
Jack sprang out of bed. “Rather! Any old thing they’ll let us do. We’ll be charladies, fetched in to help in the emergency.”
“There’s one thing I could do,” Jen said, her fingers plaiting busily. “If they’d like Mrs. Watson to come here and help, I could show visitors the Abbey. Joan’s often said I know it as well as she does. I wonder if they’d trust me to look after the tourists?”
“I don’t believe they would. You may know it all, but you don’t look as if you did. You’re too much of a kid.”
Jen sighed, as she flung back her plaits and went to turn down her bed. “That’s silly. I know all the dates and stories.”
“I bet you do! But the tourists wouldn’t believe it. They’d think you were making it up.”
“I shall ask Nurse to tell Joan I’d like to do it,” Jen said.
Prompted by Nurse and by their sympathy for the younger girls, Cook and Grace kept finding jobs in which they needed help. Clad in big overalls, they swept and dusted the hall and dining-room, peeled potatoes and shelled peas, laid the table and prepared trays. No one spoke of Joy; it was too bad to talk about. The only way to bear the d
ifficult day was to keep on working and not to think.
The doctor came early and was upstairs for what seemed a long time. When he came down with Nurse Parker, Jen came flying from the kitchen, her overall caught up in her hand.
“Doctor! Please tell us!”
He paused. “Do you want the truth, my dear? Well then, Joy is seriously ill. But I hope we shall pull her through; she’s having every care, and it is a matter of careful nursing. She’s in the best possible hands. Mrs. Shirley is better, but I want her to stay in bed to-day. Joan is nearly well, and I have given her leave to sit with her mother. She’ll worry less than if she’s alone in her room. Keep the house quiet, and don’t do anything that would cause more trouble for our good friends who are watching Joy.”
“Oh, we won’t!” Jen promised, her lips trembling. “I am glad about Joan! She’ll feel much better if she can be with Auntie Shirley.”
“We think so. You and your friend are all right?”
“No measles,” Jack said, in the background. “But we’re feeling rotten about everything.”
“I hope the rotten feeling will soon pass off,” and Dr. Brown hurried away.
“How tophole for you to hear him say that about—‘the best possible hands,’ Nurse!” Jack looked at the nurse enviously.
“I have worked with Dr. Brown for years.” And Nurse Parker went back to her patients.
Jen, carrying a tray as far as the top of the stair, to save Grace a journey, stood in frozen horror, for Joy’s door was ajar and she could hear Joy’s voice, talking excitedly, on and on. The door was closed from within the room, and Jen fled back to the kitchen.
“What’s up?” Jack glanced at her over her bowl of peas.
“Joy,” Jen’s voice shook. “The door was open; I heard her. She’s talking, but I’m sure she doesn’t know what she’s saying—it wasn’t her real voice——”
“Delirious,” Jack’s lips pinched. “Don’t howl, Jen. It won’t help her. She’ll be all right when her temp. goes down.”
Jen bit her lips fiercely. “Will she? Sure? I read somewhere, in some story, that it was dangerous then.”
Stowaways in the Abbey Page 11