Australian Hospital (14 page)

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” said Candace sternly. “You have a lot of work in front of you, Rosemary, do you realise it? You are established, but not
accidentally
so, darling. It means keeping your shoulder to the wheel, not easing up because the going is steady.”

“I know,” nodded Rosemary with a seriousness that sat sweetly upon her youth. “I won’t go throwing our money around I just thought you might like it as a peace offering to Stephen.”

“Peace offering?”

“For your omitting to tell him about Dad’s decision for Manathunka. He’s not going to be exactly pleased, you know.”

Mrs. Buckland was just as casual as the young couple. She must have sensed Candace’s curiosity, for she turned to her with a smile.

“We have a poem that says this is the land of Wait-a-while and Lots-of-time, and though that is just what those young folks didn’t do, it portrays our native attitude. We’re easy-going, Candace. Just as you were brought up in dignity and respect, we were reared in the acceptance of things. John told me about a girl he met on the ship. He said he might marry her. I accepted it at that, and now I accept his marriage.”

As Candace slipped into bed that night, she remembered something that John had said during the eventful evening.

“... While I arranged with Stephens about trucking the beasts, Rose went into the Manundo store and bought the ring. When we go down to Sydney I’ll get her one myself. A man can’t escape everything—and I’ve never bought a girl a present yet.”

She got out of bed, and groped for the now-familiar box. She did not light the room. She just lifted the lid, and felt the cool stones between her fingers.

So it wasn’t John—

Could it have been the Tilburns then?

She slipped the ring on her finger. It fitted perfectly. For a moment she sat there in the dark, then she took the ring off, put it back in the box, and went and stood by the window.

CHAPTER X

Candace
left the next morning.

Eight hours after Rosemary and John had waved her off in the Mail at Darwin, she stepped out at Mascot.

The Tilburns were there to meet her. Rosemary had said she had wired immediately after her wedding. Candace wondered what she faced now in Rosemary’s parents.

She need not have worried.

Mr. Tilburn had reserved a secluded corner in the airfield cafe, and there the three of them sat and toasted the young couple over cups of coffee.

Candace met the same calm acceptance as she had met in Mrs. Buckland.

“Dad and I did almost a similar thing,” smiled Mrs. Tilburn reminiscently.

“Yes, Mary’s father was moving a herd from Queensland. There wasn’t air-lift those days, of course. Mary was helping him. Girls did then.”

“Rosemary will help John,” said Candace stoutly.

“I was shifting up sheep, and we met half-way. Mary finished the journey with me.” Mr. Tilburn leaned over spontaneously and captured his wife’s hand. She squeezed his in return.

“I liked that young fellow from the first,” went on Rosemary’s father, returning to the present, “though I must say I thought it was
you
he was after, not Rose.”

“So did we all,” smiled Rosemary’s mother. “So did Ash Halliday.”

At Ash Halliday’s name, Mr. Tilburn shot out an accusing finger. “You never gave the doctor my message, Candace.”

“I didn’t have an opportunity. I ran into a lot of work, and then there was the Meeting, and after that Kemona.”

“Well, he knows now. We’ve been out to see Bobby. I wish we had learned about Rose. However, you must tell him.”

“You are really satisfied over it all?” Candace, for some reason, did not want to speak about Stephen.

Both the Tilburns nodded wholeheartedly.

“I’m glad to see Rose settled,” said her father. “She was always rather restless.”

“Our girl wanted more than merely a social whirl,” put in Rosemary’s mother. “She was at heart a country woman. You can never escape from that, you know. You don’t really
want
to. Naturally, she had grown a little away from Bibaringa. During her schooldays she saw very little of it, and straight after that we all went abroad. I think this is the best thing that could have happened. She gave John and herself ample time to think things over. It must make for a sounder basis, Candace. They must
know
by this time. As far as a social wedding goes, it means nothing to our girl. Rose has attended so many, I believe they no longer hold any attraction.”

“And
you
are not disappointed?”

“I’ll be glad to rest a while at Bibaringa. It’ll be like when we first went there. Just the two of us.” She caught Mr. Tilburn’s eye and smiled.

The Tilburns drove Candace to Manathunka. They stopped at the big gates and Mr. Tilburn got out with his passenger.

“Thanks for looking after our Rosemary.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I think you did. I think just knowing you has been a good influence for Rose. It’s been a good thing for me.”

“How do you make that out, Mr. Tilburn?”

“Your bringing down Bob made me see things the
right
way.”

“That was Bobby, not me.”

“Well, perhaps—You’re a grand girl, anyway. You and Ash are fine people. Now I know about Rosemary and John, nothing would please me better than—”

Mr. Tilburn did not finish. His wife pulled his sleeve and told him not to keep Candace standing around while he talked too much.

“But I was just going to say—”

“I know. That’s why I stopped you.”

Mr. Tilburn looked first blank, then comprehending. Candace waved good-bye, then started up the drive wondering what the little double-talk between them had meant.

She found herself bending forward eagerly for a first glimpse of the big house.

There was a warm feeling within her, like coming home after exile. She had never felt quite like this before. Fairhill had been kindly but never intimate, Lady Charlotte had offered companionship but it had always remained a hospital, Miss Fielding’s Manders was closer than the others, but it had been so brief, so transitory—

Manathunka was home.

She knew at that moment that she never wanted to leave this place. There were bright tears in her eyes as she stood a moment regarding the sprawling house at the end of the avenue of camphors.

She reported immediately to Matron.

That good lady was frowning, as usual, over the accounts. “Oh, Sister Jamieson, Sister, would you know the right price for peanut paste? This does seem extortionate. You look very rested, my dear. Where did you go?”

“To Siberia.” Candace spoke it, then clapped her hand over her mouth. She had written that to Gwenda, trying to express to her old friend the distance you travelled in this bewildering country.

“Really? Was it nice?”

Candace escaped with her laughter still intact, but it bubbled out gaily as she ran into Toby Ferry.

“Hullo, Jam. Back again? You look very amused.”

She told him briefly of Matron’s acceptance of Siberia. “She must have been adding up the grocery bill. What’s the trouble this time? Cheese or rice?”

“Peanut paste. Poor Matron.”

“Don’t waste your pity. She’s happy.”

“But is it good, Toby?”

“You mean, for Manathunka? Don’t worry about that, either. There’s been a lot of things going on around here. You went away too soon.”

“What sort of things?”

“You’ll find out.”

“Oh, Toby.” Candace pouted. Then she asked, “How is Barbara taking it? I did not have the heart to see her after the Meeting that day.”

“A pity you didn’t. It might have stopped you feeling sorry for Babs.”

“Why?”

“Again, don’t ask me. All I can say is that for a dismissed girl she seems extremely cheerful.”

“Toby, you are a tease. Tell me more.”

“There’s nothing I can tell—except something that’s going to wipe that Siberian smile off your fair face. Ash Halliday wants to see you. At once.”

“Oh—”

“What did you do to him, Jam? He’s not very pleased.”

“I didn’t give him a certain message. Rosemary Tilburn’s father is going to become one of Manathunka’s sponsors.” Candace realised that she had said Tilburn, and smiled.

“Oh, so that’s it,” nodded Toby. “So that’s why Babs has been told not to give up hope yet. That’s why Ash gave me the whisper that Matron is going to be allowed to concentrate solely on the practical side and her staff given more executive powers. Money talks, Jam.”

“How do you mean?”

“My dear girl, you’re not that dim. Surely by this you have seen how restricted Ash has been because Eve Trisby’s godfather is Manathunka’s main sponsor. If Ash could get rid of Mr. Dawson—”

“That would mean getting rid of Eve.”

“Well?”

“That is something I
would
never believe of Dr. Halliday.” Candace spoke quietly but with authority.

Toby looked at her with inquiry, then shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, please yourself over that, Jam. Don’t forget my message concerning Ash. He’s here now. In the Honoraries.”

Candace went upstairs to her room.

For a while she stood at the window looking down on the gully. It was still quite early. There was plenty of time for her to obey Stephen Halliday’s summons. In fact, theoretically she was off duty until to-morrow morning, so till then her time could be considered her own.

Perversely, she turned and made her preparations for bed.

She was walking down the corridor to the annexe the next morning when she saw Stephen Halliday coming up from the men’s ward.

She could not avoid him without being noticed, so she continued her journey, feeling much less composed than she hoped she looked.

As they met she stood aside with proper deference for the honorary to pass by her.

Instead of passing, he stood blocking her passage. His eyes, when she managed to raise hers at last to his, were the blue chips of ice so well remembered.

“You have returned, Sister.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You enjoyed yourself?”

“Very much, thank you.”

“You went to—?”

“Kemona. The Buckland station.”

“I see.” The eyes were less friendly than ever.

“You have recently returned?”

“I returned—last night.”

Now the brows above the eyes were meeting in that straight black line.

“Did you happen to see Doctor Ferry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did he give you any message from me?”

“Yes.”

“Repeat it, Sister.”

“He told me you wished to see me.”

“Did he say when?”

“He said at once.”

“Did you do that?”

Candace was fast losing her control of herself. “You know I didn’t.”

“Were you on your way to see me now?”

“No, sir.”

“I am to take it then that you intended deliberate disobedience of an order. This is not the first time, Sister. Well?”

Candace stood quite still, not trusting herself to speak. A few moments went by.

“So!”

Again she was to hear that hard contemplation of his. “You have no excuse to offer, I gather. I shall see you in the Honoraries’ Office in half an hour.”

“For discipline?” She did not know why she flung it at him; she wished she could render it unsaid.

Immediately there came the memory of that night he had taken her to the ballet—and the moment when he had stopped the car beneath the trees, pulled her to him, and given her that hard, relentless kiss.

Flaming colour suffused her cheeks, and suddenly she was looking at him and seeing laughter in his eyes—and sardonic teasing.

“Why not, Jamieson?” he suggested coolly. “Why not?” Candace turned, and almost fled.

It was a different man she met, though, when she tapped on the door thirty minutes later, and entered the long, rather dim room.

Stephen was standing by a window. As she came to the table he joined her, but he did not sit down. Candace stood also.

Either he had forgotten the deliberate disobedience that had prompted him to send for her, or he had decided to pass the matter over.

He said instead, “It is a pity you did not deliver Mr. Tilburn’s message before you left on your vacation.”

“Yes, I am sorry. I was caught up in the epidemic rush, then there was the Meeting—”

“Do you consider that a sufficient excuse? It evidently hasn’t occurred to you that if you had done what you had been asked, it might have been a different Meeting.”

“No, that didn’t occur to me.”

Stephen took up a paperweight, regarded it a moment, then returned it to the table.

“If I had had the knowledge of Hugh Tilburn’s backing, I could have done what I wanted to—cast the vote in favour of Miss Breen.”

There was a silence.

Then:

“But
did
you want to do that?” asked Candace. Her voice was low.

The doctor wheeled on her. “What exactly do you mean, Sister?”

Candace half turned away, but instantly Stephen Halliday’s hand shot out, and he turned her round to face him.

“Explain yourself.” His tone was peremptory.

“Very well, then. I think—I think it is easy for you to say these things now, but I think, too, that even had you known of Mr. Tilburn’s backing, you still would have voted—with Eve.”

There was a slight change in the ice-blue glance. A flicker of intrigue—a warm curiosity—

Stephen came a step closer. He put his hand on Candace’s shoulder. She could feel the fingers firm and a little ruthless through the stuff of her uniform. They seemed to sear her very flesh.

Now the curiosity was going out of his eyes, and something urgent and strong coming in instead.

For a moment Candace stood unsteady. Everything seemed to be rushing by her. The light streaming through the window was shot with colours and the room spun round.

Instinctively, she stretched out her arm to him for support, then, realising what she was doing, she shrank away, stepping out of the grasp of those hard fingers, and crossing to stand by the chair.

Instantly Stephen became himself again—the cold deliberator, the man with one vision.

“Do you think I would put a woman
—any
woman, before the thing that is nearest to my heart?” he demanded roughly.

He waved his arm to the seat, then sat down himself.

After a second’s hesitation she obeyed.

There was a silence in the room.

Candace broke it nervously.