“Go up and see him, Barbara,” she said. “Go now, at once; the nurse may try to prevent it, but insist on seeing him. He ought not to be left alone with that strange woman, and she never likes me to be long in the room. Children have got better, haven’t they, even when the doctors have given them up?”
“Over and over again,” said Barbara. “Yes, I’ll go up at once.”
She left the drawing-room and ran up-stairs. She knew Piers’s beautiful room well, and softly opened the door. Within was darkness. A woman in full nurse’s dress confronted the girl.
“What do you want? You must not come in here,” said Nurse Ives.
“My name is Evershed,” said Barbara, dropping her voice to a very low tone. “I have come to see Piers. I am one of his greatest friends. I have known him all his life. May I come in and sit with him for a little? I should like it so much, and I would be quiet. I would do just what you wished.”
“You cannot come in,” said the nurse. “I cannot permit it. No stranger is to be allowed to come into the room. I am acting on the doctor’s authority.” As Nurse Ives spoke Barbara found herself edged, against her will, on to the landing. A very weak voice inside the room called her name—“Barbara! Barbara!”
“Oh, he heard my voice; he wants me. Do—do, nurse, let me go to him—please, nurse.”
“I cannot,” said the nurse. “Stay where you are for a moment. I will go back to him.”
She reentered the room and said something to the child which Barbara could not hear, and returned.
“You cannot see the boy—I have Dr. Tarbot’s orders. Now please go away. I must return to him immediately.”