“Of the thirty-eight trained nurses who have arrived with Ada, fourteen are Church of England Sisters, three or four are Congregationalists, there are a certain number of Presbyterians; and ten are Catholic Sisters of Charity from the London East End.”
He screwed his mouth into the shape of a whistle, and elevated his eyebrows dubiously:
“By George! I fancy I hear the whoops of the ultra Low Church Party against Popish proselytizers and priestesses of the Romish Mysteries. The gale will break, though there is calm at present. And then—there will be a heckling of the Minister at War!”
She said, displeased:
“The Sisters are strictly bound not to speak of religious matters to any patient who is not of their Church.... I am sure that they can be depended upon. So far as I can judge, their demeanor is perfect. It struck me that they accorded a more prompt obedience to Ada’s orders than the other nurses displayed. And when one remembers that they only arrived yesterday morning, the changes that have already been wrought are astonishing. I could not have believed it had I not seen!”
He asked:
“And the Lady-in-Chief. One hopes she is serenely confident in the success of her great undertaking?”
Something in his tone stung. Lady Stratclyffe answered, with her eyes upon her work:
“The undertaking is great, undoubtedly. As you must know, her letter volunteering to assume its burden crossed that which Robert Bertham had written entreating her to accept it. The Barrack Hospital here and the General Hospital will be under her sole direction. She has also the supervision of all other British Military Hospitals in the East. But I can detect no ‘confidence’ in her bearing.... It would be more appropriate to describe it as calm.”
“The Mediterranean is calm,” Cardillon said, smiling and shrugging. “Yet I’ve been three times wrecked in it, and once in the Ionian Sea!”