The egoism of this was nearly incredible. Helen found herself doubting her ears.
“Come, Aline,” she said, “don’t behave like that.”
“The moment you are sorry it will be all over,” said Aline stupendously.
CHAPTER XII
ROBIN was coming down to Grote to spend with his mother his last day in England, for to-morrow he and Jim were both going out for their first period of active service in France. She had been at her post since the end of October, and had been too busy all day to think of much except the work which so incessantly occupied her, and too tired when that was over to think, with the more conscious part of her brain, of anything at all. She had brought her whole attention and will to performing her duties adequately, and her greatest reward had been that she had been able to forget herself. Next to that ranked the commendation of her most efficient matron. But at present her work had not become for her a labour of love. Her pride was involved in its being well done; apart from that it was still more of an anodyne than a duty or a joy.
She had got up very early on this day after Christmas Day, for Robin would arrive by car in the middle of the morning, and she wanted to get through as much as possible of the day’s work before his advent, so that she should be freer for him. She had already arranged for the catering of the day: she had seen to the giving out of clean linen: she had unpacked a consignment of cigarettes and distributed their allowance to her patients. Just now she was going round the wards to see that the breakfasts were what they should be, and was talking to a man for whom to-day there was no breakfast, as he had to have an operation during the morning. He was a quiet, well-mannered young fellow, no older than Robin, smooth-faced and curly-haired, and he had to lose a leg. But it was the operation itself that he dreaded most.
He looked at her as she said good-morning to him with brown, frightened eyes.
“Can’t they put it off a day or two yet, sister?” he asked. “It seems easier this morning.”
She sat down on the edge of his bed.
“I’m afraid not, Jaye,” she said. “You must make up your mind to it. And they do such wonders now: you’ll be able to walk about as well as any of us, when they’ve given you your new leg.”