“O, that was wrong! I ought to have been called long ago. How is——” she stopped, a sudden fear holding her tongue a prisoner.
“Mrs. Westcot is getting better,”—supplementing the unfinished question and answering it at the same time. “She, like yourself, has been sleeping all day.”
“And Mrs. Boswell——?”
“Has also had a nap while I sat with Mrs. Westcot, and if you will rise and dress I will prepare you some—breakfast,” and laughing again she disappeared leaving Imelda to her own reflections, but first having lit the gas overhead. No hesitation now. Hastily she arose and quickly made her toilet. Donning a wrapper she twisted the dark hair into a shining coil, and in a few minutes descended to the dining room where Mary had spread for her a tempting meal.
Imelda was a favorite with the servants, who were always willing to do a favor for this fair girl from the west, who was so considerate. It was well known that Mrs. Westcot was also from the western metropolis, and they often wondered if people in the west generally were so kind and considerate. It would have been impossible for the gentle-hearted Alice to assume aristocratic airs, therefore she could always depend upon her servants, and all hearts were filled with fear while the gentle mistress was raving of real or fancied woes, and when at last, after weary weeks, the crisis was over, it was as if a heavy cloud had passed away, and the gloomy faces were bright.
Having done ample justice to the generous repast, and feeling much refreshed, Imelda sped to the chamber above. Softly she opened the door and moved to the bedside. Mrs. Boswell was sitting with her elbow resting upon the bed, her head upon her hand. She never moved as Imelda stepped to her side. Bending down she found that the nurse was fast asleep. A pang smote her that while she, in the strength of youth, had slept the day away the much older woman had continued at her post. True, Mary had said that she had relieved her for awhile, but Imelda knew that she, like herself, needed a good long rest, and she decided that she should have it. Seeing that Alice too was sleeping, she gently touched Mrs. Boswell on the shoulder and slightly shaking her the nurse awoke with a start. Imelda held up a warning finger to prevent her from making an outcry. But the woman was frightened. She felt guilty at having been found asleep at her post of duty. Hastily reaching for her watch she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Only ten minutes,” she whispered. “She has been sleeping so long,” indicating Alice, “that I suppose the quiet has overpowered me.”
“And no wonder,” said Imelda,—“you are certainly in need of rest. I will now take your place while you sleep all night and all day tomorrow, too, if you wish. So just give me the directions for tonight, and then away to your couch.” The woman smiled.
“Thank you. I am only too glad to accept.” After giving the proper directions she added: “And now if you will excuse me I will accept your kind offer and sleep. Mary took my place for several hours or I fear I could not have held out. In the morning I will be ready to take my place again.”
So the nurse withdrew and left Imelda alone with her sick friend, and as she largely imitated the example of the young girl and slept until the afternoon of the next day, Imelda had a long watch before her.