Dr Blank sat silent; tapping his desk with noiseless fingers; staring thoughtfully across the room. It was evident that he had a proposition to make; evident also that he doubted its reception.
“The best thing under the circumstances—the wisest thing,” he said slowly at last, “would be for you to go into hospital as an ordinary patient. I could get you a bed in one of my own wards, where I could look after you myself, in consultation with the first men in town. You could have massage, electricity, radium, heat baths, every appliance that could possibly be of use, and you could stay on long enough to give them a chance. It would be an ordinary ward, remember, an ordinary bed in an ordinary ward, and your neighbours would not be up to Newnham standard! You would be awakened at five in the morning, and settled for the night at eight. You would have to obey rules, which would seem to you unnecessary and tiresome. You would be, I am afraid, profoundly bored. On the other hand, you would have every attention that skill and science can devise. You would not have to pay a penny, and you would have a better chance than a duchess in a ducal palace. Think it over, and let me know! If you decide to go, I’ll manage the rest. Take a day—a couple of days.”
“I won’t take two minutes, thank you! I’ll decide now. I’ll go, of course, and thank you very much!”
Dr Blank beamed with satisfaction.
“Sensible girl! Sensible girl! That’s right! That’s right! That’s very good! You are doing the right thing, and we’ll all do our best for you, and your friend here will come to see you and help to make the time pass. Interesting study, you know; valuable opportunity of studying character if you look at it in that light! Why not turn it into literary capital? ‘Sketches from a Hospital Bed,’ ‘My Neighbours in B Ward,’ might make an uncommonly good series. Who knows? We may have you turning out quite a literary star!”
Sophie smiled faintly, being one of the people who would rather walk five miles than write the shortest letter. Many unexpected things happen in this world, but it was certain that her own rise to literary eminence would never swell the number! But she knew that Dr Blank was trying to cheer her, so she kept that certainty to herself.
The two girls made their way back to Sophie’s lodgings, and discussed the situation over the ever-comforting tea.
“I shall have to give my landlady notice,” Sophie said, looking wistfully round the little room which had been so truly a home. “If I’m to be in hospital for many weeks, it’s folly to go on paying the rent; and in any case I can’t afford so much now. One can’t have doctor’s bills, and other luxuries as well. What shall I have to take into hospital? Will they allow me to wear my own things? I don’t think I could get better in a calico night-dress! Pretty frills and a blue ribbon bow are as good as a tonic, but will the authorities permit? Have you ever seen ribbon bows in a hospital bed?”
“I haven’t had much experience, but I should think they would be encouraged, as a ward decoration! I hope so, I’m sure, for I mean to present you with a duck of a dressing-jacket!”
“Oh, nothing more, Claire; don’t give me anything more. I shall never be able to pay you back,” cried Sophie; then, in a voice of poignant suffering, she cried sharply, “Oh, Claire, my little sister! What is to become of my little sister? If I am not able to help, if I need to be helped myself, her education will be interrupted, for it will be impossible to go on paying. Oh, it’s too hard—too dreadful! Everything seems so hopeless and black!”