THE NAPOLEON OF THE MOORS
On the bear-skin rug, with his back to the fire, stood Dr.Robert Mackenzie, known to his friends as "Dr.Rob" or "Old Robbie,"according to their degrees of intimacy.
Jane's first impression was of a short, stout man, in a sealskin waistcoat which had seen better days, a light box-cloth overcoat three sizes too large for him, a Napoleonic attitude,--little spindle legs planted far apart, arms folded on chest, shoulders hunched up,--which led one to expect, as the eye travelled upwards, an ivory-white complexion, a Roman nose, masterful jaw, and thin lips folded in a line of conscious power.Instead of which one found a red, freckled face, a nose which turned cheerfully skyward, a fat pink chin, and drooping sandy moustache.The only striking feature of the face was a pair of keen blue eyes, which, when turned upon any one intently, almost disappeared beneath bushy red eyebrows and became little points of turquoise light.
Jane had not been in his presence two minutes before she perceived that, when his mind was working, he was entirely unconscious of his body, which was apt to do most peculiar things automatically; so that his friends had passed round the remark: "Robbie chews up dozens of good pen-holders, while Dr.Mackenzie is thinking out excellent prescriptions."When Jane entered, his eyes were fixed upon an open letter, which she instinctively knew to be Deryck's, and he did not look up at once.When he did look up, she saw his unmistakable start of surprise.He opened his mouth to speak, and Jane was irresistibly reminded of a tame goldfish at Overdene, which used to rise to the surface when the duchess dropped crumbs.He closed it without uttering a word, and turned again to Deryck's letter; and Jane felt herself to be the crumb, or rather the camel, which he was finding it difficult to swallow.
She waited in respectful silence, and Deryck's words passed with calming effect through the palpitating suspense of her brain."The Gaelic mind works slowly, though it works exceeding sure.He will be exceeding sure that I am a verra poor judge o' women."At last the little man on the hearth-rug lifted his eyes again to Jane's; and, alas, how high he had to lift them!
"Nurse--er?" he said inquiringly, and Jane thought his searching eyes looked like little bits of broken blue china in a hay-stack.
"Rosemary Gray," replied Jane meekly, with a curtsey in her voice;feeling as if they were rehearsing amateur theatricals at Overdene, and the next minute the duchess's cane would rap the floor and they would be told to speak up and not be so slow.
"Ah," said Dr.Robert Mackenzie, "I see."He stared hard at the carpet in a distant corner of the room, then walked across and picked up a spline broken from a bass broom;brought it back to the hearth-rug; examined it with minute attention; then put one end between his teeth and began to chew it.
Jane wondered what was the correct thing to do at this sort of interview, when a doctor neither sat down himself nor suggested that the nurse should do so.She wished she had asked Deryck.But he could not possibly have enlightened her, because the first thing he always said to a nurse was: "My dear Nurse SO-AND-SO, pray sit down.
People who have much unavoidable standing to do should cultivate the habit of seating themselves comfortably at every possible opportunity."But the stout little person on the hearth-rug was not Deryck.So Jane stood at attention, and watched the stiff bit of bass wag up and down, and shorten, inch by inch.When it had finally disappeared, Dr.Robert Mackenzie spoke again.
"So you have arrived, Nurse Gray," he said.
"Truly the mind of a Scotchman works slowly," thought Jane, but she was thankful to detect the complete acceptance of herself in his tone.Deryck was right; and oh the relief of not having to take this unspeakable little man into her confidence in this matter of the deception to be practised on Garth.
"Yes, sir, I have arrived," she said.
Another period of silence.A fragment of the bass broom reappeared and vanished once more, before Dr.Mackenzie spoke again.
"I am glad you have arrived, Nurse Gray," he said.
"I am glad TO have arrived, sir," said Jane gravely, almost expecting to hear the duchess's delighted "Ha, ha!" from the wings.
The little comedy was progressing.
Then suddenly she became aware that during the last few minutes Dr.
Mackenzie's mind had been concentrated upon something else.She had not filled it at all.The next moment it was turned upon her and two swift turquoise gleams from under the shaggy brows swept over her, with the rapidity and brightness of search-lights.Dr.Mackenzie commenced speaking quickly, with a wonderful rolling of r's.
"I understand, Miss Gray, you have come to minister to the patient's mind rather than to his body..You need not trouble to explain.Ihave it from Sir Deryck Brand, who prescribed a nurse-companion for the patient, and engaged you.I fully agreed with his prescription;and, allow me to say, I admire its ingredients."Jane bowed, and realised how the duchess would be chuckling.What an insufferable little person! Jane had time to think this, while he walked across to the table-cloth, bent over it, and examined an ancient spot of ink.Finding a drop of candle grease near it, he removed it with his thumb nail; brought it carefully to the fire, and laid it on the coals.He watched it melt, fizzle, and flare, with an intense concentration of interest; then jumped round on Jane, and caught her look of fury.
