"I think I can find one," she said. "I will do my best, for I am grieved to hear of Mrs. Walthew's illness. No doubt she has broken down through overwork and anxiety."
When Daniel Walthew was ready to return, the nurse was forthcoming. She was young, and pleasant to look upon, but such a picture of neatness! No frizzled hair or finery, but smooth braids under a cottage bonnet, whilst wholesome-looking prints, ample aprons, and snug caps, with stout serviceable boots for outside, and noiseless slippers for indoor wear, composed her visible wardrobe.
How deft she was in her movements! How tender in her manner towards the poor invalid! How clever in preparing little things to tempt her appetite, and how patient and considerate to Daniel himself!
The old man saw his wife's face become more hopeful-looking, and in time overspread with a faint colour. He noted that her spirits improved, and that this young presence had a cheering effect on himself, for the nurse told bright tales, and as her patient gained strength, went singing about the cottage in a voice that sounded wondrously sweet, when compared with anything he had ever heard.
Barbara and her young nurse had always plenty to talk about, but sometimes they stopped suddenly when Daniel came in. He noticed, too, that she had very pretty ways, and what he called "lady hands," and yet how clever they were at whatever they attempted!
Barbara went on improving to a certain point, and then stopped. The doctor was puzzled, and said so. Day after day passed, and no progress was made. Then she began to go back a little. In mortal dread, Daniel consulted the nurse, who calmly answered, "Mrs. Walthew wants a medicine which only you can give her. She wants her son's arms round her neck, and the sight of his face."
An angry exclamation fell from Daniel's lips, and he left the cottage for a time. When he returned the nurse was standing with her outdoor garments on and her box packed ready to depart, as it was the carrier's day for Claybury.
"You will not leave her!" he cried, aghast at the sight and at the tears of his wife.
"I would not, if I could do more for her, but I cannot stay to see her die when it is in your power to save her. If Mrs. Walthew dies, the blame will be on your head."
The nurse looked fearlessly at Daniel, who turned from her to his wife as these plain words fell on his ears.