Mr. Null’s dignity declined to attach any importance to the “other worry.” “No nurse has any business here, without my sanction! I’ll send her away directly.”
He pushed open the baize door. A lady was sitting by Carmina’s bedside. Even in the dim light, there was no mistaking that face. Mr. Null recognised—Miss Minerva.
She rose, and bowed to him. He returned the bow stiffly. Nature’s protecting care of fools supplies them with an instinct which distrusts ability. Mr. Null never liked Miss Minerva. At the same time, he was a little afraid of her. This was not the sort of nurse who could be ordered to retire at a moment’s notice.
“I have been waiting anxiously to see you,” she said—and led the way to the farther end of the room. “Carmina terrifies me,” she added in a whisper. “I have been here for an hour. When I entered the room her face, poor dear, seemed to come to life again; she was able to express her joy at seeing me. Even the jealous old nurse noticed the change for the better. Why didn’t it last? Look at her—oh, look at her!”
The melancholy relapse that had followed the short interval of excitement was visible to anyone now.
There was the “simulated paralysis,” showing itself plainly in every part of the face. She lay still as death, looking vacantly at the foot of the bed. Mr. Null was inclined to resent the interference of a meddling woman, in the discharge of his duty. He felt Carmina’s pulse, in sulky silence. Her eyes never moved; her hand showed no consciousness of his touch. Teresa opened the door, and looked in—impatiently eager to see the intruding nurse sent away. Miss Minerva invited her to return to her place at the bedside. “I only ask to occupy it,” she said considerately, “when you want rest.” Teresa was ready with an ungracious reply, but found no opportunity of putting it into words. Miss Minerva turned quickly to Mr. Null. “I must ask you to let me say a few words more,” she continued; “I will wait for you in the next room.”
Her resolute eyes rested on him with a look which said plainly, “I mean to be heard.” He followed her into the sitting-room, and waited in sullen submission to hear what she had to say.
“I must not trouble you by entering into my own affairs,” she began. “I will only say that I have obtained an engagement much sooner than I had anticipated, and that the convenience of my employers made it necessary for me to meet them in Paris. I owed Carmina a letter; but I had reasons for not writing until I knew whether she had, or had not, left London. With that object, I called this morning at her aunt’s house. You now see me here—after what I have heard from the servants. I make no comment, and I ask for no explanations. One thing only, I must know. Teresa refers me to you. Is Carmina attended by any other medical man?”
Mr. Null answered stiffly, “I am in consultation with Doctor Benjulia; and I expect him to-day.”
The reply startled her. “Dr. Benjulia?” she repeated.