novel notes-第27部分

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〃There　was　some　'grit'　in　that　man；〃　said　MacShaughnassy。

〃Yes；〃　added　Jephson；　〃and　wholesome　wit　also。〃

MacShaughnassy　puffed　a　mouthful　of　smoke　over　a　spider　which　was　just　about　to　kill　a　fly。　　This　caused　the　spider　to　fall　into　the　river；　from　where　a　supper…hunting　swallow　quickly　rescued　him。

〃You　remind　me；〃　he　said；　〃of　a　scene　I　once　witnessed　in　the　office　of　The　Dailywell；　in　the　office　of　a　certain　daily　newspaper。　　It　was　the　dead　season；　and　things　were　somewhat　slow。　　An　endeavour　had　been　made　to　launch　a　discussion　on　the　question　'Are　Babies　a　Blessing？'　　The　youngest　reporter　on　the　staff；　writing　over　the　simple　but　touching　signature　of　'Mother　of　Six；'　had　led　off　with　a　scathing；　though　somewhat　irrelevant；　attack　upon　husbands；　as　a　class；　the　Sporting　Editor；　signing　himself　'Working　Man；'　and　garnishing　his　contribution　with　painfully　elaborated　orthographical　lapses；　arranged　to　give　an　air　of　verisimilitude　to　the　correspondence；　while；　at　the　same　time；　not　to　offend　the　susceptibilities　of　the　democracy　（from　whom　the　paper　derived　its　chief　support）；　had　replied；　vindicating　the　British　father；　and　giving　what　purported　to　be　stirring　midnight　experiences　of　his　own。　　The　Gallery　Man；　calling　himself；　with　a　burst　of　imagination；　'Gentleman　and　Christian；'　wrote　indignantly　that　he　considered　the　agitation　of　the　subject　to　be　both　impious　and　indelicate；　and　added　he　was　surprised　that　a　paper　holding　the　exalted；　and　deservedly　popular；　position　of　Theshould　have　opened　its　columns　to　the　brainless　vapourings　of　'Mother　of　Six'　and　'Working　Man。'

〃The　topic　had；　however；　fallen　flat。　　With　the　exception　of　one　man　who　had　invented　a　new　feeding…bottle；　and　thought　he　was　going　to　advertise　it　for　nothing；　the　outside　public　did　not　respond；　and　over　the　editorial　department　gloom　had　settled　down。

〃One　evening；　as　two　or　three　of　us　were　mooning　about　the　stairs；　praying　secretly　for　a　war　or　a　famine；　Todhunter；　the　town　reporter；　rushed　past　us　with　a　cheer；　and　burst　into　the　Sub…　editor's　room。　　We　followed。　　He　was　waving　his　notebook　above　his　head；　and　clamouring；　after　the　manner　of　people　in　French　exercises；　for　pens；　ink；　and　paper。

〃'What's　up？'　cried　the　Sub…editor；　catching　his　enthusiasm；　'influenza　again？'

〃'Better　than　that！'　shouted　Todhunter。　　'Excursion　steamer　run　down；　a　hundred　and　twenty…five　lives　lostfour　good　columns　of　heartrending　scenes。'

〃'By　Jove！'　said　the　Sub；　'couldn't　have　happened　at　a　better　time　either'and　then　he　sat　down　and　dashed　off　a　leaderette；　in　which　he　dwelt　upon　the　pain　and　regret　the　paper　felt　at　having　to　announce　the　disaster；　and　drew　attention　to　the　exceptionally　harrowing　account　provided　by　the　energy　and　talent　of　'our　special　reporter。'〃

〃It　is　the　law　of　nature；〃　said　Jephson：　　〃we　are　not　the　first　party　of　young　philosophers　who　have　been　struck　with　the　fact　that　one　man's　misfortune　is　another　man's　opportunity。〃

〃Occasionally；　another　woman's；〃　I　observed。

I　was　thinking　of　an　incident　told　me　by　a　nurse。　　If　a　nurse　in　fair　practice　does　not　know　more　about　human　naturedoes　not　see　clearer　into　the　souls　of　men　and　women　than　all　the　novelists　in　little　Bookland　put　togetherit　must　be　because　she　is　physically　blind　and　deaf。　　All　the　world's　a　stage；　and　all　the　men　and　women　merely　players；　so　long　as　we　are　in　good　health；　we　play　our　parts　out　bravely　to　the　end；　acting　them；　on　the　whole；　artistically　and　with　strenuousness；　even　to　the　extent　of　sometimes　fancying　ourselves　the　people　we　are　pretending　to　be。　　But　with　sickness　comes　forgetfulness　of　our　part；　and　carelessness　of　the　impression　we　are　making　upon　the　audience。　　We　are　too　weak　to　put　the　paint　and　powder　on　our　faces；　the　stage　finery　lies　unheeded　by　our　side。　The　heroic　gestures；　the　virtuous　sentiments　are　a　weariness　to　us。　In　the　quiet；　darkened　room；　where　the　foot…lights　of　the　great　stage　no　longer　glare　upon　us；　where　our　ears　are　no　longer　strained　to　catch　the　clapping　or　the　hissing　of　the　town；　we　are；　for　a　brief　space；　ourselves。

This　nurse　was　a　quiet；　demure　little　woman；　with　a　pair　of　dreamy；　soft　gray　eyes　that　had　a　curious　power　of　absorbing　everything　that　passed　before　them　without　seeming　to　look　at　anything。　　Gazing　upon　much　life；　laid　bare；　had　given　to　them　a　slightly　cynical　expression；　but　there　was　a　background　of　kindliness　behind。

During　the　evenings　of　my　convalescence　she　would　talk　to　me　of　her　nursing　experiences。　　I　have　sometimes　thought　I　would　put　down　in　writing　the　stories　that　she　told　me；　but　they　would　be　sad　reading。　The　majority　of　them；　I　fear；　would　show　only　the　tangled；　seamy　side　of　human　nature；　and　God　knows　there　is　little　need　for　us　to　point　that　out　to　each　other；　though　so　many　nowadays　seem　to　think　it　the　only　work　worth　doing。　　A　few　of　them　were　sweet；　but　I　think　they　were　the　saddest；　and　over　one　or　two　a　man　might　laugh；　but　it　would　not　be　a　pleasant　laugh。

〃I　never　enter　the　door　of　a　house　to　which　I　have　been　summoned；〃　she　said　to　me　one　evening；　〃without　wondering；　as　I　step　over　the　threshold；　what　the　story　is　going　to　be。　　I　always　feel　inside　a　sick…room　as　if　I　were　behind　the　scenes　of　life。　　The　people　come　and　go　about　you；　and　you　listen　to　them　talking　and　laughing；　and　you　look　into　your　patient's　eyes；　and　you　just　know　that　it's　all　a　play。〃

The　incident　that　Jephson's　remark　had　reminded　me　of；　she　told　me　one　afternoon；　as　I　sat　propped　up　by　the　fire；　trying　to　drink　a　glass　of　port　wine；　and　feeling　somewhat　depressed　at　discovering　I　did　not　like　it。

〃One　of　my　first　cases；〃　she　said；　〃was　a　surgical　operation。　　I　was　very　young　at　the　time；　and　I　made　rather　an　awkward　mistakeI　don't　mean　a　professional　mistakebut　a　mistake　nevertheless　that　I　ought　to　have　had　more　sense　than　to　make。

〃My　patient　was　a　good…looking；　pleasant…spoken　gentleman。　　The　wife　was　a　pretty；　dark　little　woman；　but　I　never　liked　her　from　the　first；　she　was　one　of　those　perfectly　proper；　frigid　women；　who　always　give　me　the　idea　that　they　were　born　in　a　church；　and　have　never　got　over　the　chill。　　However；　she　seemed　very　fond　of　him；　and　he　of　her；　and　they　talked　very　prettily　to　each　othertoo　prettily　for　it　to　be　quite　genuine；　I　should　have　said；　if　I'd　known　as　much　of　the　world　then　as　I　do　now。

〃The　operation　was　a　difficult　and　dangerous　one。　　When　I　came　on　duty　in　the　evening　I　found　him；　as　I　expected；　highly　delirious。　　I　kept　him　as　quiet　as　I　could；　but　towards　nine　o'clock；　as　the　delirium　only　increased；　I　began　to　get　anxious。　　I　bent　down　close　to　him　and　listened　to　his　ravings。　　Over　and　over　again　I　heard　the　name　'Louise。'　　Why　wouldn't　'Louise'　come　to　him？　　It　was　so　unkind　of　herthey　had　dug　a　great　pit；　and　were　pushing　him　down　into　it…　…oh！　why　didn't　she　come　and　save　him？　　He　should　be　saved　if　she　would　only　come　and　take　his　hand。

〃His　cries　became　so　pitiful　that　I　could　bear　them　no　longer。　　His　wife　had　gone　to　attend　a　prayer…meeting；　but　the　church　was　only　in　the　next　street。　　Fortunately；　the　day…nurse　had　not　left　the　house：　I　called　her　in　to　watch　him　for　a　minute；　and；　slipping　on　my　bonnet；　ran　across。　　I　told　my　errand　to　one　of　the　vergers　and　he　took　me　to　her。　　She　was　kneeling；　but　I　could　not　wait。　　I　pushed　open　the　pew　door；　and；　bending　down；　whispered　to　her；　'Please　come　over　at　once；　your　husband　is　more　delirious　than　I　quite　care　about；　and　you　may　be　able　to　calm　him。'

〃She　whispered　back；　without　raising　her　head；　'I'll　be　over　in　a　little　while。　　The　meeting　won't　last　much　longer。'

〃Her　answer　surprised　and　nettled　me。　　'You'll　be　acting　more　like　a　Christian　woman　by　coming　home　with　me；'　I　said　sharply；　'than　by　stopping　here。　　He　keeps　calling　for　you；　and　I　can't　get　him　to　sleep。'

〃She　raised　her　head　from　her　hands：　　'Calling　for　me？'　she　asked；　with　a　slightly　incredulous　accent。

〃'Yes；'　I　replied；　'it　has　been　his　one　cry　for　the　last　hour：　Where's　Louise；　why　doesn't　Louise　come　to　him。'

〃Her　face　was　in　shadow；　but　as　she　turned　it　away；　and　the　faint　light　from　one　of　the　turned…down　gas…jets　fell　across　it；　I　fancied　I　saw　a　smile　upon　it；　and　I　disliked　her　more　than　ever。

〃'I'll　come　back　with　you；'　she　said；　rising　and　putting　her　books　away；　and　we　left　the　church　together。

〃She　asked　me　many　questions　on　the　way：　　Did　patients；　when　they　were　delirious；　know　the　people　about　them？　　Did　they　remember　actual　facts；　or　was　their　talk　mere　incoherent　rambling？　　Could　one　guide　their　thoughts　in　any　way？

〃The　moment　we　were　inside　the　door；　she　flung　off　her　bonnet　and　cloak；　and　came　upstairs　quickly　and　softly。

〃She　walked　to　the　bedside；　and　stood　looking　down　at　him；　but　he　was　quite　unconscious　of　her　presence；　and　continued　muttering。　　I　suggested　that　she　should　speak　to　him；　but　she　said　she　was　sure　it　would　be　useless；　and　drawing　a　chair　back　into　the　shadow；　sat　down　beside　him。

〃Seeing　she　was　no　good　to　him；　I　tried　to　persuade　her　to　go　to　bed；　but　she　said　she　would　rather　stop；　and　I；　being　little　more　than　a　girl　then；　and　without　much　authority；　let　her。　　All　night　long　he　tossed　and　raved；　the　one　name　on　his　lips　be