there.
There was something for each of them in gay, be-ribboned boxes.
Georgina opened hers to find a small Delft blue bowl full of budding
crocuses. She voiced her thanks shyly and he cut them short with a quiet,
"Only a trifle. Miss Rodman." She thought he was going to say something
else, but Dimphena asked him just then if he would like a meal.
He put a large arm across her shoulders.
"No, thanks, Phena. I dined on the way."
"Ooh! A date?"
Georgina looked up and saw that he was watching her; he didn't take his eyes
away as he answered carelessly, "Yes, I suppose you might call it that...
Nurse, would you be good enough to give me a few minutes of your time in the
morning? If you would breakfast with me--or a cup of coffee if you
prefer--there are several things I wish to discuss."
It was snowing again in the morning. She went quickly through the quiet
house to where the Professor was breakfasting; it reminded her of her first
morning, for the post, ten times greater this morning by reason of it being
Christmas, was strewn around him, rather as though a gale had blown it
haphazard through one of the latticed windows. He got up, sending a fresh
shower of envelopes on to the floor, and said:
"Good morning--nice of you to get up so early. Shall it be coffee?"
She nodded and said good morning, following it up with the observation that
it was snowing and he would be advised to leave in good time if he wished to
reach London in time to get any work done. She was pouring coffee from the
small Georgian coffee pot as she spoke, and so failed to see the amusement on
his face, but when he thanked her for her solicitude, it was with such
meekness that she looked at him with sudden suspicion, to encounter a mild
stare which betrayed no inkling of his thoughts.
When he spoke it was with unwonted briskness.
"Cor's legs--excellent, you'll be pleased to hear-- a first class union of
both femurs. If there's no hitch, he should be up on his feet by the first
week in February. How do the lessons go?"
She answered earnestly, "Very well. He and Beatrix have both worked
hard--Mr. Coppin won't be coming again until the first week in January.
He's got too much church work to do. " She hesitated.
"I expect you know that already."
"We discussed it before I went away. I told him to make his own arrangements
and tell you." He buttered a finger of toast and heaped it with marmalade.
"What about you?" he asked.
She looked at him stupidly. The? "
He sighed.
"Christmas, my dear girl. Don't you want extra days off?"
She looked down at her cup.
"Of course, you would like me to go away for Christmas," she stated flatly.
He gazed at her in some astonishment, his coffee cup half way to his lips.
"Now why in the name of thunder do you say that?" he wanted to know.
"Of course we didn't want you to go away for Christmas, but it hardly seems
fair to keep you when you may have long-cherished plans of your own."
"Well, I haven't," said Georgina shortly.
"Ever since worked in hospital, Great-Aunt Polly has spent the day with
friends at Elmdon.
It's rather difficult to get Christmas free in hospital," she added, just in
case he didn't know.
"In that case. Nurse, I should be glad if you would stay. But please feel
free to go to your home during the holidays. We shall all be here; it would
be a poor set-up if we can't contrive to look after Cor for a few hours."
But she still hesitated, uncertain as to whether he was being kind or whether
he really wanted her. Her thoughts were reflected in her face, for he said,
his voice at its most placid:
"The children are very fond of you; and I mean all four of them. Karel is
half inclined to fall in love with you, and I consider you an excellent
nurse. What more do you want?"
What more indeed? Georgina preferred not to answer that question, not even
to herself.
"Nothing," she replied mendaciously.
He nodded.
"That's settled, then. How is Cor's appetite?"
They were on safe ground again. She answered the rest of his questions in a
brisk, pleasant voice, mindful that she was the nurse, on duty, as that was
evidently how he thought of her. If he ever did think of her.
The Professor pushed back his chair and stretched out his long legs before
him.
"When is your next day off?"
"The day after tomorrow..." she broke off as he opened another letter and
allowed its envelope to flutter to the carpet.
"Why are you so untidy?" she asked in a vexed fashion. You only have to put
the waste paper basket by your chair. "
She got up and did so as she spoke, and picked up the scattered envelopes and
pushed them into it rather impatiently.
"I forget. And Stephens or Milly always clear up the mess and never say a
word."
"Meaning that I do?" She was on her knees,
picking up cards and letters and bills.
He looked around him.
"You're very good at it. I suppose you wouldn't consider--er--just over
Christmas?"
She laughed.
"Yes, of course. Dimphena answers the cards, doesn't she?
That leaves the invitations and the bills and your private letters. "
She was reducing chaos to four orderly piles as she spoke, and handed him the
last pile. He stuffed them into his pocket and got to his feet.
"Would you put the rest on my desk? Dimphena can see to the cards and I'll
go through the bills this evening."
"And the invitations," she prompted, and watched his frown.
"If it helps, you could write Yes or No on the cards and I could fill them in
and address the envelopes. Dimphena is awfully busy, and I have plenty of
time."
He stood close to her, looking down without expression into her upturned face.
"That's kind of you--but wouldn't it be transgressing your nursing rules or
whatever it is you obey?"
Georgina's gentle curves took on a militant appearance.
"We don't have those kind of rules, Professor. We make ourselves useful. If
you don't wish to accept my offer, you have only to say so."
She tossed her head, and a few tendrils of hair escaped and floated about her
ears. She had opened her mouth to deliver a further crushing remark when he
caught her by the shoulders.
"What a delightful creature you are!" he remarked with a laugh in his voice,
and kissed her fleetingly on her mouth.
"Remind me to invite you for next Christmas;
you can help me with my correspondence again. "
He went away without another word, leaving
CHAPTER SEVEN
georgina got up earlier than usual on her day off. She had looked out of her
window when she got out of bed and had been the first few desultory
snowflakes falling from the black early morning sky. She had intended taking
the Mini over to Aunt Polly's, but now she wasn't so sure. There was a bus
from the village, though; she could go to Thaxted and change there. It would
take much longer, but if she didn't to Aunt Polly and Mrs. Mogg wouldn't get
their presents. She went downstairs and had the post half sorted by the time
Professor came down, with Robby at his heels. He wished good morning, and
went over to the sideboard, saying as he went:
"Finished? Good. You had better have breakfast now, then you can make an
early start for Chickney."
He came back to the table with a bowl of porridge in each hand, and said
firmly, "Sit down, Nurse. You shouldn't here anyway, you know.
It's your day off. " he broke off.
"You're in uniform. Why?"
Georgina spooned brown sugar on to her porridge and replied in a composed
voice, "I remember very clearly your wishes that I should wear uniform at all
times while I was here. I'm going by bus today. It doesn't leave the
village until almost ten o'clock. I shall have plenty of time to see to
Cor's breakfast and still have leisure to catch the bus, dressed, I hope,
like any other woman of my age. As I am still--on duty, I am wearing
uniform, as you requested."
She began to eat her breakfast, watching him through her long lashes.
He would have to make some sort of a reply. He didn't. Instead he said
blandly, "You're being ridiculous about the bus. I apprehend that you are
not taking the Mini because it is mine and you might skid or something of
that sort. In that case, Karel shall take you, and bring you back when you
wish."
She stared at him.
"Indeed he won't. Whatever next? I expect he's got his day planned; why
should he waste half of it taking me when there's a perfectly good bus
service..."
"Three buses a day, I believe?" he queried silkily. A corner of his mouth
twitched and she saw it, so that her hand shook a little with temper as she
poured the coffee. He took the pot from her and said infuriatingly,
"Tut-tut, Miss Rodman, you are being what my old nanny would call a
crosspatch. Karel will be delighted to take you and well you know it. Had
it not entered your head to ask him?"
He passed her the coffee, offered her sugar and cream, and asked, "Eggs and
bacon?" and went over to the sideboard again to peer under the lids of the
dishes set out on the hot plate
She surveyed his back with a kindling eye and said somewhat belatedly:
"No, of course I didn't. I should no more dream of asking him than.. " She
stopped, went red, drank coffee far too hot and choked.
He put a plate down before her, patted her absentmindedly on the back and
took his own seat again. The? " he asked.
"No, I don't imagine you would--but then I'm not Karel, am I?" He picked up
his knife and fork.
"I must congratulate you on teaching Cor to play a very creditable game of
chess."
She replied suitably, most of her mind occupied with his previous remark.
Just what had he meant, or hadn't he meant anything at all?
His voice broke into her seething thoughts.
"You're not attending. Miss Rodman."
She raised her eyes to his and asked, not in the least meaning to:
"How did you--that is--St. Nicholaas know that I wanted that china
figure--the girl with the dog?"
He took a slice of toast and then pointed it accusingly at her.
"Why must you always have an answer for everything? Can you not, just for
once, believe in fairy-tales?"
He buttered his toast and she refilled his cup and answered seriously:
"I should like to very much--only there aren't many fairy-tales in hospital,
you know, and after a while you forget about them."
"Then don't," said the Professor. He picked up the pile of cards before him.
"These aren't all invitations, are they? Can I get out of any of them?
Phena likes to go to them all, but Karel's home now, he can take her--I can
only bear a certain amount of this modern dancing.
I get lonely dancing by myself," he added plaintively, and Georgina laughed.
"How ridiculous you are," she chuckled.
"It's the fashion. But I know what you mean--I'd rather dance with someone
too."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Miss Rodman, do not tell me that at last we agree wholeheartedly about
something outside our own small world of hospital?"
He grinned at her and got to his feet.
"You had better go and transform yourself into--what was it--a normal woman
of your age, because I am going up to see Karel before I go."
He was right, of course. Karel was delighted to take her. They bundled her
packages into the back of the Morgan and he added a large square box of his
own, which, when Georgina queried it, she was told was none of her business.
The roads were bad, but passable, and Karel drove well. They enjoyed the
trip and arrived at the cottage in the highest possible spirits. Karel got
out and started to unload the parcels.
"You go on in," he suggested, 'and I'll bring these along. "
He followed her into the warmth of the little hall, put his burden down and
went back for the square box, and after introductions had been made,
presented it to Great-Aunt Polly.
"From Julius," he explained.
"There's a card inside somewhere."
Aunt Polly went a delicate pink.
"How very kind!" she breathed.
"Georgina, undo it, dear, will you?"
Georgina did as she was asked, revealing half a dozen bottles of champagne.
They looked festive and luxurious and although the name on the bottles meant
nothing to her, she was sure that the Professor would have sent only the best
that was to be had.
Karel stayed for coffee and showed no disposition to hurry away. In the end
he went, promising to return about eight o'clock that evening.
When he had gone. Aunt Polly poured herself a second cup and remarked:
"What a nice boy--let's hope that he grows into just such a man as his
cousin. He seems very fond of you, dear." Her guileless eye met Georgina's
and she smiled.
"He's rather young," she observed.
Georgina selected a chocolate biscuit.
"Yes, Aunt dear. He's twenty-two, and he is, as you say, very young. He's
also a perfect dear, but a bit hasty and impulsive. He's clever--he intends
to be an orthopaedic surgeon. He and Julius..."
"Julius?"
She blushed and frowned at her carelessness. She would have to guard her
tongue.
"Everyone calls the Professor Julius, and I'm afraid I've got into the habit
of doing it myself."
"I can't think why you don't," said her aunt surprisingly.
"It's very--er--stuffy to keep on with Professor this and Doctor that."
Georgina felt shocked; she was about to demolish another biscuit, but held it
arrested in midair while she tried to explain to her aunt.
"Well, I daresay if the Professor and I had met in an office or in someone's
house or something like that, we should call each other.. " she paused.
"It's no use. Aunt Polly. He always calls me Nurse or Miss Rodman--he
wouldn't call a nurse by her Christian name in hospital, you see. It just
isn't done--at least, not often, and he wants to keep our--our relationship
the same as though we were working on a ward, or Cas." She added helplessly,
"He's very anxious that I shou
ld be a nurse and not a girl." She remembered
the night he had returned from Holland and had kissed her; she had been a
girl all right then, just for a few minutes, but it wasn't much use brooding
over that.
She gave her aunt a brilliant smile and plunged into a colourful account of
life at Dalmers Place. It was lunch time by the time she had finished and
she went into the kitchen to help Moggy dish up and to make sure that all the
arrangements had been made for her aunt to go to Elmdon on Christmas Day.
They opened one of the bottles of champagne and got a little festive, and
presently Aunt Polly went to sleep and Georgina bundled Mrs. Moggs up to her
room to take a nap too, before going into the kitchen to wash up and get the
tea tray ready before going back to sit by the fire and read the Christmas
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