Annie Haynes Premium Collection – 8 Murder Mysteries in One Volume. Annie Haynes

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СКАЧАТЬ stockings done before winter. I knit them all myself, Minnie.”

      “Do you really?” The girl looked much impressed. “You will ring if you want anything, nurse,” she went on. “Wright will bring your supper up; and I will let you know when the folk are going.”

      “Thank you, Minnie!” the nurse responded as she laid her modest belongings in the big wardrobe and the drawers that looked so ludicrously out of proportion with their contents.

      A few minutes later she was back with her patient, who was apparently asleep, and stood regarding her with a puzzled expression.

      “I cannot be mistaken,” she murmured, “and yet—”

      She shrugged her shoulders as she crossed the room and, taking her knitting in her hand, sat down before the fire, watching the flames with absent eyes, while her fingers clicked the steel pins with mechanical regularity.

      She had scarcely moved, save to give her patient the required nourishment, when several hours later Mavis tapped at the door.

      “You wanted to see mother, nurse,” she began. “The people are going now, so if you—”

      The nurse came softly across the room.

      “I would go at once, Miss Mavis, but Minnie promised to come and sit with the young lady while I went. I hardly care to leave her alone.”

      Mavis came into the room.

      “Oh, I will stay, nurse! I dare say Minnie is busy with the cloaks.”

      She drew nearer the bed and looked at the fair pale face, at the cloud of golden hair spreading over the pillows.

      “How lovely she is,” she said with involuntary admiration.

      “She is pretty,” Nurse Marston admitted, with a kind of grudging reservation.

      “Is she unconscious?” Mavis went on. “Does she hear anything we say?”

      “It is impossible to tell how much she understands,” the nurse said repressively. “She lies for the most part in this kind of stupor, and I must ask you not to talk before her, Miss Mavis. It might do harm.”

      “Oh, I am so sorry! “ Mavis exclaimed penitently. “It was very thoughtless of me. You will be afraid now to trust me with her.”

      “Well, I am rather anxious to speak to her ladyship, so if you really don’t mind staying a few minutes I shall be very grateful to you, Miss Mavis.”

      “Oh, that will be all right!” Mavis tiptoed across the soft carpet to the nurse’s big easy-chair. “Don’t hurry yourself at all on my account, nurse,” she added pleasantly. “Just tell me, is there anything I ought to give her?”

      Nurse Marston considered a little.

      “There’s her draught, but that is not for half an hour, and I shall be back in plenty of time for that. No, there is nothing now, thank you, Miss Mavis—only just to give an eye to her every now and then.”

      “I see.” And Mavis settled herself comfortably in her chair. “Tell mother not to stay up gossiping too long,” she said lightly as, with a half-reluctant backward glance, the nurse left the room.

      Mavis’s glance lingered a while on the straight white figure lying so still and motionless in the big bed, then her thoughts wandered to Garth, and the little smile which certain memories of the evening evoked was still lingering round her lips when a weak voice spoke from the bed.

      “Who is there? Who are you?”

      Mavis sprang to her feet and hurried to the bedside, starting as she met the gaze of a brilliant pair of blue eyes.

      “Who are you?” the soft voice went on insistently.

      “I am Mavis Hargreave. You saw me last night. Don’t you remember now?”

      The girl pressed her hand over her forehead. “I —I think I have seen you somewhere,” she said perplexedly. “But I don’t remember. Where am I?”

      Moved by a sudden impulse of pity, Mavis took one of the slim trembling hands in hers and held it tenderly.

      “You are at Hargreave Manor—we found you in the park last night.”

      The girl tossed restlessly about.

      “I don’t seem to remember anything,” she said, her mouth trembling pitifully. “But I think you are being very good to me, and I thank you very much.” Her fingers closed on Mavis’s and her eyelids drooped.

      Mavis glanced across the room longingly at the bell. She was uncertain how this interval of consciousness should be treated and felt anxious to summon Nurse Marston back to her duties, but the hold on her hand detained her. She stooped over the invalid gently.

      “Hilda—may I call you Hilda?—will you let me go for one moment? I want to call some one who will know just what you ought to have now.”

      The weak clasp did not slacken.

      “No—I want you—to stay with me,” the invalid said wilfully. “It—Where was I last night?”

      Mavis was uncertain how far the question should be answered; her eyes sought the clock as she hesitated. Already the nurse had been away twenty minutes. Surely she would soon be back now?

      “I—When do you mean?” she parried.

      Big tears came into the blue eyes.

      “Ah, why will you not tell me? I cannot remember, try as I will. All I can recall is a sort of medley, like a bad dream—trouble—and I was all alone—and darkness and difficulties all around me.”

      There was a low tap at the door, but Mavis was too much interested to notice it.

      “Then out of all that was vague and indefinite,” the girl continued, “one face seemed to shape itself, looking down at me with pity—a man’s face—and I was borne away into light and warmth.”

      “My brother Arthur found you in the park and carried you to the carriage,” Mavis returned prosaically. “We were very glad we heard you; it might have killed you to stay there all night.”

      The knock at the door was repeated, and a voice called: “Nurse!”

      Mavis recognized her mother’s voice and tried to draw her hand away.

      “It is my mother,” she said.” I must speak to her.”

      But the other girl still clung to her.

      “You must not go,” she said. “I am not strong enough to see anyone else to-night—indeed, I am not. Promise you will not let anyone come in.”

      Chapter V

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