Free Kary, Elizabeth by Let No Man Divide

the purpose of her visit.
    "I've
come to ask your help and advice, Dr. Phillips," Leigh began steadily,
though her fingers were laced tight around the handkerchief in her lap.
"As you know, I worked for several years in my grandfather's medical
practice before he died, and as his assistant I learned a great deal about
caring for the sick."
    Phillips
pulled thoughtfully on his immaculately kept beard and nodded. "Yes, Simon
told me on several occasions how well you were doing and how pleased he was by
your concern for his patients. You had a rare opportunity to learn your skills
from one of the best doctors this city's ever had. But just what is it I can do
to help you, Leigh?" His expression of respect for her grandfather brought
tears to Leigh's eyes, and she had to blink them away before she could answer.
    "Well,
sir, I thought that with the onset of war there is bound to be a need for
people to tend the sick and wounded soldiers. Since I already have my medical
training, I was hoping you could tell me how to offer my services as a
nurse."
    Shocked
silence filled the examining room as Phillips sat speechless at what she
proposed. "As a nurse?" he echoed at last. "Surely you can't be
serious, my dear! A nurse, indeed. You're a gently reared young woman, Leigh,
not some common drab from the almshouse or the gutter, forced to work in a
hospital or starve. Only those unfortunates and the good Catholic sisters, of
course, nurse the ill. Why should someone with your advantages volunteer to do
such a thing?"
    "Isn't
it a woman's Christian duty to care for the sick?" she countered evenly,
calm and confident now in the face of his opposition.
    "Yes,
it is, but working in a hospital full of wounded men would hardly be the same
as tending an old auntie with the croup!" Phillips paused, pulling his
beard with new vigor, trying to think of any rationale that would deter the
granddaughter of one of his dearest friends from considering this foolish
course. In the pause Leigh found herself comparing his argument to the one
Lucas had voiced; somehow she had expected Dr. Phillips to be more enlightened
and open-minded than her fiancé had been. "Besides, Leigh," Phillips
went on after a few moments, "the Army has never made provisions for women
on its nursing staff. Nor is the Medical Department any more prepared for this
war than the rest of the service."
    "Then
wouldn't volunteers with medical training be welcome, sir, regardless of their
gender?" There was a note of zeal in her voice as she went on. "At
the rate things are going, it won't be long before full-scale battles are
joined, and then the wounded are bound to need someone to look after them.
Surely this is a time when we must all work together to provide for the men who
are going to defend their countries."
    Phillips
frowned, unimpressed by her fervor. "I daresay there will be plenty for
you to do once the war starts in earnest. It's been barely a month since Fort
Sumter fell, and in time women will no doubt get together to roll bandages,
scrape lint, and knit socks."
    "Any
idiot can scrape lint and roll bandages!" Leigh cried passionately.
"And my knitting is barely adequate."
    "It
would improve," Phillips prophesied, his round, florid face getting redder
as he met her continued opposition.
    "That's
not the point!" Leigh argued. "The skills I have can save lives. I
know how to treat a high fever and change a dressing. I can even set a broken
bone, if need be."
    Phillips
threw up his hands in a gesture of resignation, then changed his tack.
"How old are you, Leigh?" he asked.
    "Twenty-two."
    "And
are you married?"
    "Dr.
Phillips, you know very well—" Leigh began to protest.
    "Are
you married?" he repeated.
    "No,
not yet," she conceded.
    "And
do men find you attractive?"
    The
question flustered Leigh, and she shrugged self consciously. "I suppose
they do, but what—"
    Phillips
looked smug, as if he'd made his point. "No matter how good your
credentials, Leigh, those three things