Honey

by Mary Burchell

  CHAPTER FOUR

  So deeply, was Honey under the influence of the events of the past few days that she felt, as she reentered the residence, that she must surely carry some evidence other experiences on her face. But no one commented or questioned. No one even glanced at her with covert interest as she checked in at the entry desk. And, when she arrived at the upper corridor where she and Barbara and several others other acquaintance had their rooms, a passing nurse greeted her with no more than, "Hello, are you another one summoned back from leave? Well, I suppose you weren't doing anything special, as you were just at home." For a moment Honey toyed with the idea of saying, "I was only getting engaged to Dr. Anston." But her courage failed her, particularly as the speaker was one of those who had witnessed Dr. Anston's original rebuke to her. So she murmured falsely that she had not been doing anything special and went on to her own room. Here Barbara, recently off duty, joined her almost immediately. Being a much more intimate friend than the other nurse, she naturally asked more detailed questions about Honey's affairs. "You say Matron herself telephoned for you? My, you should feel flattered! She must know you as the girl who stood up to Dr. Anston," declared Barbara. 61 "Oh, I don't expect so," replied Honey uncomfortably. "I wouldn't worry," said Barbara kindly, mistaking the reason for Honey's subdued tone. "I don't expect you'll be much longer on operating room duty. And then you'll hardly ever see Dr. Anston and can forget all about his having had his knife in you." "Oh, not reallyno!" exclaimed Honey somewhat incoherently, tor it was unnerving to be plunged immediately into the necessity of explaining the inexplicable. "What do you mean?" Barbara looked surprised. "You surely don't mean to brood over the fact that he was beastly to you?" "Oh no!" cried Honey again, feeling that she was slipping farther and farther into the bog of misunderstanding. "I meant...." She stopped and then said with resolution, "Barbara, something happened while I was at home on leave." Arrested by her tone, Barbara stared at her. Then her eyes widened incredulously. "You mean in connection with Dr. Anston?" Honey nodded. "He didn't make a private complaint about you? Come to your home or something?" "No, of course not!" said Honey crossly, because it was becoming increasingly clear to her that she would not be able to break, her news with less than a thunderclap. She swallowed and blurted out, "I mean that he asked me to marry him." "He?" Barbara took off her cap in a dazed way and sat down slowly on the side of the bed. "Say that again." Honey said it again, but rather timidly. 62 "I don't understand. We are talking of our Dr. Anston. aren't we?" said Barbara almost pleadingly. "Yes, of course." "And he truly and seriously asked you to marry him?" "Yes," said Honey, hoping her recording angel was not listening. "But ... what did you say?" "I said 'yes,' " stated Honey, greatly simplifying all that she really had said. . "You.. .. Look here, am I crazy or are you?" inquired Barbara. But before Honey could reply, an over-bright colleague called Peters put her head in and, on hearing this leading question, naturally said, "Both of you, I expect." Then, seeing Barbara's queer expression, she came farther into the room and asked curiously, "Is anything the matter?" "No," said Barbara. "Nothing at all. Except that Milward has just got engaged to Dr. Anston." At this, Peters, who should really have been a gossip writer and not a nurse, gave a squeal of delighted amusement and rushed out into the corridor, presumably to spread the glad and sensational tidings. "I'm frightfully sorry." Barbara looked remorsefully at Honey. "I forgot what a tattler Peters is." "It doesn't matter. She's probably saved me a lot of embarassing explanations," Honey replied. "It's not a bad idea to let everyone know at once." Barbara glanced at her again, as though she no longer knew quite what to make of her once familiar companion. But before she could say any more, the first of the eager news-seekers arrived. "Milward, what on earth is this story?" They 63 crowded into the open doorway of her. room, amused, intrigued, congratulatory, very happy to have such an entrancing variant on hospital life at the end of a dull day. "It's quite true." Barbara obligingly spoke up for Honey, who was slightly overcome by the sensation she was causing. "Honey's just told me herself. But if you want to know how it all came about, your guess is as good as mine. I thought you couldn't bear him, Honey," she added, her curiosity getting the better of her desire to shield her friend from too much questioning. "Well, I was wrong." Honey colored, but made a great effort to appear like one who was both happy and amused about her own past blindness. "I met him outside hospital surroundings, so...." "How?" inquired Peters, now returned to the scene and looking as though she might produce a pencil and notebook at any moment. Honey gave them a brief but, as she warmed to her task, amusing account of how she had induced Dr. Anston to save the show at the W.I. group meeting. Everyone enjoyed this, laughed a great deal and began to find the whole story not so entirely incredible. "And then," said Honey, wisely sticking to the true facts, even though her interpretation of them was a trifle free, "he took me out in the car, gave me tea, asked me to bury the hatchet. Suddenly we found ourselves engaged." "Just like that?" Barbara looked impressed. "More or less," Honey asserted firmly. "There were a few intermediate steps, maybe." Everyone said it was the most amazing thing they 64 had ever heard, though most of them agreed that it was quite delightful. Morgan, who was sentimental and had once been caught reading a romance while on night duty, added that it just showed how near love and hate were. To all of which Honey found little to say. But as everyone felt she must really be very complex indeed to have achieved all this, it seemed quite in character for her to sit there smiling and apparently thinking her own thoughts. "When are you going to tell Sister?" asked Peters. At that a solemn silence fell. For Sister was a formidable lady with, by virtue of her position, a sort of vested interest in surgeons that she did not like challenged. Immensely efficient herself, she tended to think poorly of nurses who were less than fully qualified, and would have preferred the godlike creatures who Operated not even to say "Good morning" to the nurses. It would be hard for her to accept the fact that her favorite, Dr. Anston, should so far have forgotten himself as actually to become engaged to one. "I shall leave John to tell her himself," replied. Honey with admirable composure. "Who?" asked Peters. And when it dawned on them that Honey was thus referring to the unapproachable Dr. Anston, everyone looked at her with a sort of awed respect she found difficult to sustain. Questions were then asked about the ring, the length of engagement, and whether or not Honey intended to be married in the hospital chapel. And although the discussion of such details made Honey feel nervous and as though, literally and figuratively, she no longer had her feet on the ground, the truth was that she was now getting used to her situation. At 65 least, she told herself, she had taken the difficult hurdle of the first announcement. By the time the others scattered reluctantly to their own rooms once more, everyone had completely accepted the fact that Milward was engaged to Dr. Anston. Next morning, the irresistible routine of hospital life claimed Honey so ruthlessly that she had tumbled out of bed at the sound of her alarm clock and was half-dressed before she clearly recalled her new status as the fiancee of Dr. Anston. And when she did so, the discovery disconcerted rather than gratified her. For the queer thing was that, as she belted her uniform aound her trim waist, she somehow also put on the full identity of Nurse Milward and shed that of Honey. She had then the disconcerting experience of seeing recent events as Sister, for instance, would see them. And she could not help feeling that. after all, it was really very presumptuous of her to have become engaged to Dr. Anston, whatever the circumstances might be. However, there was nothing she could do about it now. So, together with all the other nurses who were going on duty at the same time, she hurried down to breakfast, and then later went along to the operating room, trying to pretend to herself that this was just a day like any other day. In company with a rather nervous and inexperienced nurse whom she hardly knew. Honey set about the familiar work of laying up the instrument trolleys. In the ordinary way, she was able to concentrate on this type of work to the exclusion of everything else, and even Sister had once implied, though not ac
tually stated, that Honey was especially careful and reliable. 66 Every surgeon has certain favorite instruments, as a conductor may have a favorite baton. It was Honey's special pride that, in addition to knowing everything ^ it was necessary to know about the routine laying up of an instrument trolley, she had a card-index knowledge of the methods and preferences of the surgeons for whom she worked. ^ Consequently, she secretly felt a good deal annoyed when, on that particular morning. Sister looked into the sterilizing room and said, "Please see that everything is completely in order for Dr. Anston. You know he doesn't suffer errors gladly." "Yes, Sister," said Honey meekly at what she considered to be a most unnecessary admonition. "Did you ever make a mistake?" inquired the nurse hopefully, when Sister had vanished into her adjoining office. "No. Not about instruments, I mean," Honey said briefly. "But you had an awful argument once with Dr. Anston, didn't you?" continued the newcomer , respectfully. * | "Not really," replied Honey, divided between 'annoyance and a sort of gratification at this evidence I-that her relations with him seemed to become some| thing of a legend. "Anyway, I ended by getting |engaged to him at the beginning of this week." t_ It would be idle to deny that Honey was now |becoming very faintly boastful about her exalted posi|tion, and the gasp with which her companion greeted |this announcement was flattering in the extreme. E "Then you don't have to worry," the newcomer ipighed enviously. "Whatever you did, you wouldn't [get into a fight now, I suppose." 67 You'd be surprised!" replied Honey ironically. "Dr.I mean Johnis a stickler for discipline. I can't imagine that a little thing like being engaged would affect his working manner." Then she fell to wondering if this really were the case. And, though it is painful to have to record such a thing of our very likeable and conscientious Honey, her attention wandered sadly from her work. When Dr. Anston finally arrived, she was in the other room. The trembling newcomer fastened his gown and mask for him, and Honey herself did not see him until he actually entered the operating room. By then she was also in the partial disguise of her mask and gown, and there was no question of being able to speak to him personally. He never even glanced her way. He greeted Sister, nodded to the anesthetist, who was an old friend of his, and gave a curt and comprehensive "Good morning" to the four nurses, including Honey. Then he started to work as usual. In some extraordinary way, it both amused and excited Honey to know that she was so near him without his even knowing the fact, almost as though she were observing him unseen. He had no reason, of course, to think of her as anything but miles away, and she obviously did not impinge on his consciousness as more than another uniform and another pair of hands. Part of her was already completely absorbed in the familiar routine of the operating room, but another part of her was quietly enjoying the piquant situation that had arisen. She might have gone on enjoying it all morning. But at this point the doctor cast a keen. critical glance over the instrument trolley, just before 68 giving the sign for the first patient to be wheeled in. Without even looking up, he said, "Who was responsible for laying up this trolley?" Honey forgot all about being engaged to him. ',-. "I... I was, sir," she stammered. '"Come and look at it." ' Honey approached, painfully aware of Sister's angry glance almost boring a hole in her. And she saw 'that a dreadful, an inconceivable, omission had been ,ynade. The very first instrument that Dr. Anston .would need was not there. F "I'm sorry, sir." Under her mask, she was scarlet iwith mortification and naturally kept her head bent. jThen, watched by the other nurses, who were sympatheucj}ut profoundly thankful that any victim other ;than themselves should be offered up on this dreadful occasion, she scurried off to rectify the omission. Only when this had been done, and it seemed that the scene was at last properly set for the morning's work, did he direct his whole attention on Honey. "Another time...." he began. Then suddenly he recognized her. "Why, hello. Honey," he exclaimed, taken completely off his guard. "I thought you were still on leave." It is probable that never before had Sister sustained such a shock. For one thing, she naturally thought Dr. * Anston meant "honey" with a small "h," and that he was using this highly unsuitable form of address instead of the more usual "Nurse." In addition, he spoke as though he knew far more about Nurse Milward's non-working activities than was at all desirable. "Nurse Milward returned early from leave," she' said very stiffly, before Honey could find her voice. 69 "We were short-handed. She was at home, I understand, and not doing anything of special importance." Quite unexpectedly he laughed at this. "I wouldn't say that was strictly correct, Sister," he said, obviously in high good humor now. "But at least she settled the important matter early in the week. As a matter of fact, she became engaged to me." Then, while Sister, torn between reprimand and congratulation, was trying to think of the right thing to say, he added, "But I think we've mixed private and professional interests quite enough for one morning." And with a brief sign he indicated that he was ready to begin the morning's work. Mortified as she had been over her early slip, Honey was determined that absolutely nothing would distract her attention again from her work. She ruthlessly thrust Dr. Anston into the background of her mind. And there he remained for the whole of the morning session. Except that, once or twice, when she was watching those strong, beautiful, clever hands, she felt a faint stirring of something like a proprietorial pride in the miraculous things they were able to do. It was late by the time he had finished, and everyone was glad to relax and think about lunch. She did not expect him to address her personally again, but, while he was scrubbing up, he glanced over his shoulder at her and said, "Does our evening engagement stand?" "I.... Yes, I think so. I shall be off duty at six." "Then I'll be at the main entrance with the car at six-thirty. Will that suit you?" "Yes, yes, certainly," Honey assured him hastily, for --she was mortally afraid that this conversation 70 might be overheard by Sister, who would undoub-tedly regard it as little short of blasphemy that any surgeon should consult the personal convenience of any nurse."I have your ring," he continued making matters even worse. "Have you?" said Honey and fled into the sluice room, where he did not attempt to follow her. Over her late lunch she had to put up with a good deal of teasing from the other nurses, particularly from those who had been present for the operation, and could not repeat to each other and their friends often enough the particular phrases Dr. Anston had chosen to announce to Sister the news of his engagement. Although Dr. Anston had finished operating for the day. Honey was busy again that afternoon with one of the other surgeons. Fortunately the session was short, but there was a good deal of clearing up to do later. Thus it was after six before she was able to make her escape.She was still too new to her changed status to feel anything but nervous at the very thought of keeping any of the surgeons waiting, let alone Dr. Anston. So she rushed off to her room and changed in record time from her uniform to a pretty, flower-printed dress that her father invariably admired; although, in the manner of fathers, he thought it was new every time he commented on it. At precisely six-thirty. Honey, looking much cooler and calmer than she felt, walked down the steps of the main hospital entrance. As she did so, John Anston got out of his car 'which was parked nearby, and watched her approach, with that slight, enigmatic 71 smile that always made her wonder just what he was thinking. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting," said Honey, still rather more nurse than fiancee. "Not at all," he assured her and, more fiance than surgeon, coolly bent to kiss her cheek. Honey flickered her gold-tipped lashes and blushed. And because this annoyed her, she said with unexpected severity, "Was that necessary?" "I expect so," he replied carelessly. "Anyway, it was very nice." And he held open the door of the car for her. Honey found nothing whatever to reply to this. And as, on reflection, .she guessed that a certain amount of interested observation would have been bestowed upon them in such a public place, she had to admit that he had justice on his side. They drove out of the hospital grounds in silence nonplussed on her side but not, she felt sure, in the least on his. "I thought you might like to have dinner at the Mayflower," said John presently, naming the-nearest thing to a roadhouse that the district possessed
. "It ought to be pleasant in the gardens on this hot evening." Honey agreed and tried to look as though going to dine with Dr. Anston were nothing in her young life. But the events of the day pressed too heavily upon her, and presently she burst out, "I'm dreadfully sorry about what happened this morning." "All right. No harm was done," he told her. "How did. it happen, by the way? You're usually so reliable." A week ago Honey would have been ready to assure anyone that no word of praise from Dr. Anston could 72 cause her even the mildest flutter of gratification. But at this unexpected tribute a warm glow of pleasure spread over her. A sweet, though fugitive, smile lifted the corners other mouth. "I'm glad you think so," she said almost shyly. "I really do take the utmost care usually. I suppose perhaps that I was thinking of something else today, just fora moment." "I suppose you might have been," he conceded with a smile. And then, as though what she had said reminded him of something, he drew the car to a standstill in a pleasant leafy lane. "Just a moment. You'd better have this before we arrive at the Mayflower," he said. And from his pocket he produced a small jeweler's box. No one, of course, knew better than Honey that there was no real significance to this moment. No one could be more anxious to insist on the fictitious character of this engagement. And yet, so strong is the power of romantic association, at this moment she suddenly felt a curious tightening of her throat. And when he snapped open the box, to disclose an exquisitely set single-diamond ring, she cried, like any girl to any beloved, "Oh, how beautiful! How perfectly beautiful!" "Do you like it?" He smiled. She nodded wordlessly, though she knew she should really have managed to say something light and amusing, just to show that she was taking this all in the proper spirit of make-believe. "Shall I put it on for you?" Again she reminded herself that neither the moment nor the action had any real significance. But when she felt him take her hand lightly, in the strong, 73 clever fingers she knew so well, she felt herself tremble unaccountably and, quite absurdly, tears came into her eyes. "It looks nice on your hand," he observed. "It would look well on any hand," said Honey, swallowing and managing to speak lightly at last. "I think not," said John which reduced her to silence once more because she did not quite like to ask him just what he meant by that. They drove on then, and arrived at the Mayflower, where they were provided with a table in a charmingly terraced garden overlooking the river. At first she was afraid that it was bound to be a difficult evening of silences and manufactured conversation. But the excellent food, and possibly the , champagne that he declared was proper for an engagement party, made Honey feel more at ease. She found herself not only answering his questions, but volunteering information about herself and her family life. All the time she was tremendously aware of that slender, sparkling circlet on her left hand. Though she tried not to glance at it too often, it kept on catching her charmed attention at unexpected moments. Once she saw him smiling because she was looking at it, and, blushing, she explained quickly, "It's so beautiful that I can't help admiring it. 1 know it's not really mine, but...." "It is really yours," stated Dr. Anston. "Oh no!" She was shocked. "One always gives the ring back whenwhen...." "When what?" queried John rather unkindly. "When an engagement is broken." "But one never, never," he replied, slightly mimick74 ing her tone, "talks about breaking an engagement on the evening one receives one's ring." "But in the special circumstances. ..." she began, half-amused, half-distressed. "The circumstances of every engagement are special," he declared with conviction. "Enjoy your ring. There's no need to feel self-conscious about it or hide it away." "I wouldn't dream of hiding it!" Honey declared. "I only wish I could wear it on duty. But I shall certainly wear it on Founder's Day next week; then everyone can see it." He looked amused and rather pleased, she thought. "I'd forgotten it was Founder's Day. Next Wednesday, isn't it? I'll have to come down for it." "Of course. Mother, and possibly my father too, will be there." "Quite a family party," he observed, but whether or not with pleasure she could not have said. "How about your sister?" Honey asked feeling that perhaps she should show some spirit of cooperation now that her engagement had been sealed with such a splendid ring. "Do you think she might be in England by then? Because, if so, it might be a good occasion to introduce us to each other and explain the situation." "I have already explained the situation," said John Anston, who evidently believed in immediate action. "I wrote to her the day after we fixed everything. She should have my letter by now. I'm afraid she is not sailing from New York before Monday or Tuesday, so we won't be able to arrange a meeting on Founder's Day. But we'll find a good opportunity sometime soon." "Do you think," Honey asked anxiously, "that she 75 will be upset?" She watched his handsome face relax. "Upset? About the engagement? Certainly not. She'll be delighted. She has been trying to marry me off for years." "But she usually chose the candidate, didn'tshe?" Honey reminded him shrewdly, which appeared to amuse him. "Don't worry. She'll love you," John said carelessly. The choice of word both touched and disturbed Honey. "She'd better not love me too much," Honey said soberly, "considering that the whole thing is only going to last a few months." "True," agreed John. "But as she will spend most other time.in London, there can't be many personal ; meetings." "And she really won't be here for more than six months?" Honey suddenly wanted to be reassured on this point, because, in some curious way, the sensation of that ring on her finger imparted a frightening air of permanency to the whole affair. "She has to be back in the States well before Christ-' mas," he said gravely, though Honey thought there was a gleam of sardonic amusement in his eyes when she drew an involuntary sigh of relief. "Cheer up," he told her. "Most of the really difficult part is over now. Everyone has been told about the .engagement and has accepted it. There now remains only the first meeting with my sister, Deborah. Once that is past, we can settle down to being a conventional engaged couple about whom there is little more to say." "You don't really suppose the staff at St. Margaret's., will ever arrive at that point, do you?" Honey said. 76 "Why not?" . "Don't you know that, for good or ill, the surgeons in any hospital are a subject of perpetual discussion?" "Are they?" He looked reflectively amused. "Did you discuss me a great deal before you became engaged to me?" "Of course. Don't you remember?" she said, with a little touch of malice in return for all the teasing he had enjoyed at her expense. "Oh!-When you called me a monster, you mean?" He laughed, though she thought he was a trifle vexed at the recollection. "Do you still think me a monster, Honey?" "Do I have to answer that?" Honey said demurely. "Not if you don't want to," he replied rather disagreeably, "Shall we go now?" and he got up from the -table. She would have liked to tell him she was only teasing him. But there did not seem to be a very good 'opportunity now. Not, at least, if they were to keep the conversation on a suitably-light level. So she let the subject lapse. They drove home ; through the early summer night. Honey quietly fingering her ring from time to time, for the sheer pleasure of knowing she had anything so beautiful on her hand. When he said good night to her, he showed no inclination to kiss her again. Perhaps it was because ': there was no one about who needed impressing, or | perhaps because of what she had said when he i greeted her that way.^ "I'm going to London for a consultation tomor| row," he told her, "and I doubt if I shall get down ; again before Wednesday. But I'll try to make it then. p 77 Good night. Honey." His face was near hers, his eyes cool. ' She said good night in her turn and then, after the very slightest pause, during which nothing happened, she pulled away her hand quickly and ran up the steps to the big swinging doors. But, with an inconsistency of which she might well have been ashamed, she thought, as she ran, "I don't know why he didn't kiss me good night. He was quick enough to do it when he greeted me." 78