She neither saw nor heard more of the gentleman that night, though she sat up with her patient. Neither did she on the following day--and then she began to think it somewhat odd. At dusk, when Mrs. Grey and the baby were both sleeping, she went down stairs.
When Ann Hopley found the nurse installed there and that she was powerless to prevent it, she had to make the best of the unfortunate occurrence--and most unfortunate it was destined to turn out in the end. She gave the nurse certain directions. One of them was, "Ring for everything you want, and I will bring it up." The woman's meals also were brought to her punctually: Ann's object of course being to prevent her going about the house. But nurses are but human. Mrs. Chaffen was longing for a word of social gossip, and downstairs she went, this night, and made her way to the kitchen. Ann Hopley was in it, ironing at a table under the window.
"What do you want?" cried she, in a quick startled tone, as the nurse appeared.
"I thought I'd get you to give me a sup o' beer, Mrs. Hopley," was the answer. "I'm a'most faint, stopping so long in that there room with its smell of ether about."
"Why could you not have rung? I'll bring it up to you."
In the very teeth of this plain intimation, Mrs. Chaffen sat herself down on a chair by the ironing board, and began fanning her face with a corner of her white apron. "The missis is asleep," she said: "she's a sight better to-night; and I shall stop here while I drink the beer for a bit of relief and change."
Ann took a small jug that was hanging on the dresser shelves, went down in the cellar, brought up the beer and poured it into a tumbler. Mrs. Chaffen took a good draught and smacked her lips.
"That ain't bad beer, is it, Mrs. Hopley?"
"Not at all," said Ann Hopley. "Drink it up."
She would not go on with her ironing, lest it might seem an excuse for the nurse to linger; she stood by the fire, waiting, and evidently wanting the nurse gone.