"I want you to do more than nurse this case, Amy," he said, fixing her with a certain steady look of his with which he always gave commands. "I want you to put all your powers, as a woman, into it. Forget that you are nursing Dr. Leaver, try to think of him as a friend. You can make one of him, if you try, for you have in you qualities which will appeal to him—if you will let him see them. You have hardly let even me see them,"—he smiled as he said it,—"but my eyes have been opened at last. I'm inclined to believe that you can do more for our patient than even my wife or I,—if you will. Suppose,"—he spoke with a touch of the dangerously persuasive manner he could assume when he willed, and which most people found it hard to resist,—"you just let yourself go, and try—deliberately try—to make Dr. Leaver like you!"
She coloured furiously under the suggestion. "Dr. Burns! Do you realize what you're saying?"
"Quite thoroughly. I'm asking you not to hesitate to make of yourself a woman of interest and charm for him, for the sake of taking him out of himself. Isn't that a perfectly legitimate part for a nurse to play when that happens to be the medicine needed? You have those powers,—how better could you use them? Suppose you are able, through your effect of sweetness and light, to minister to a mind diseased;—isn't that quite as worthy an occupation as counting out drops of aconite, or applying mustard plasters?"
Amy Mathewson shook her head. "Do you realize, Dr. Burns, that a man like—your guest—is so far beyond me in mind and—tastes—in every way, that I could never—interest him in the way you speak of—even if I were willing to try?"
She spoke with difficulty. As Burns studied her downbent face, the profile his wife had brought out by her skill at hair-dressing showing like a fine cameo against the dark background of the wall, he was thinking that unless Leaver were blind he must find her rather satisfying to the eye, at least. He answered her with confidence.
"He's a man of education, it's true. But what are you? Come,—haven't I found all sorts of evidences, about my office, that you are a woman of education? It doesn't matter whether you got that education in a college or from the books I know you have read,—you have it. I'll trust your ability to discuss six out of a dozen subjects Leaver may bring up—or, if you can't discuss them all, you can do what is better—let him instruct you. Don't tell me you can't handle those cards every fascinating woman understands so well. If there's anything a man likes to do it's to teach an interested woman the things she cleverly professes she wants to know—and the best of it is that no matter how often you play that game on us we're always caught by it. Leaver will be caught by it, just as if he hadn't had it tried on him a thousand times. And while he's playing it with you, he'll forget himself, which is the first step on the road I want him to travel."
She looked up. "Do you mean that I am to keep on attending him after he is able to leave his room? Is he going to stay with you after that? He told me only to-day that he intends to go as soon as he is able to travel."
"We shall keep him as long as we can possibly persuade him to stay. Meanwhile, my plan is to have you settle down and stay with us, as a member of the family. We'll have someone else attend to the office. You can go with me, as usual, when I operate, but I shall put you on no case but Dr. Leaver's, and the greater part of your time will be his."
"But what will he think? Doesn't he know that I'm your office nurse?"
"How should he know it—unless you have taken pains to tell him?"