Free A Promise Is for Keeping by Felicity Hayle Page A

they had been friends almost as equals. Fortunately, however, Flip had the loyalty and the good sense not to presume on that friendship during working hours, and proved herself a most able ally.
    Her staff nurse, Kate Moore, might have presented a bit of a problem too, for she was almost twice Fay's age. But she made her position clear from the very first.
    "Now don't you be put off, Sister dear, because I'm old enough to be your mother. I ought to have been a Sister myself years ago, and it's my own choice that I'm not. By nature you see I'm a bit of a coward—and so I'm happy to be taking me orders from a chit of a girl like yourself and wondering how you have the guts to be shouldering the burdens the way ye are. And that's the truth of it."
     
    "I shall be very glad of your experience, Staff," Fay told her, smiling up at the homely Irish face as she sat at her desk.
    "Aye, I've plenty of that," the other agreed, "and if there's anything about St. Edith's you'll be wanting to know, why Kate Moore's the girl to tell you! I started my nursing days here and it's here I'll be hoping to end them."
    "Then St. Edith's should count itself very fortunate," Fay told her, and she was not just being polite or matching charm with charm, for such a record was unusual and she already knew Staff Nurse Moore's reputation in the hospital. "First of all then, Staff, tell me something about our consultants. What sort of men are they—have they any particular likes or dislikes?"
    "The two we have at present on this ward are fine fellows —proper gentlemen both. Mr. Snow—he's the senior. Getting on in his sixties now, and a little conservative, some say—never operates until he's quite sure there's no other way out of it. Not so popular with some of the younger patients who want to get it over. They want to be up and about again in the shortest possible time. They don't realise that the good Lord didn't give them all their bits and pieces for no good reason at all. He's particularly down on younger women wanting a hysterectomy for any but the best reasons."
    "I'm with him there," Fay said grimly, having had experience of that type of woman in the Commemoration Hospital.
    "Then there's Dr. Nash—a good surgeon, but not the manner of Mr. Snow. Never will have, and so he doesn't inspire the same confidence, though he's probably as good if not better with the knife."
    "And neither of them have any funniosities?" Fay queried.
    "No—both of them very easy to work with," Staff replied, though it was obvious that there was something else she was bursting to say and that the query had come as an interruption. Fay let her have her head.
    "Mr. Osborne, now—our young Registrar. He's the man for my money. A real boyo—you mark my words, Sister dear, in a few years he'll be the top of the tree. Lovely work he does—and so neat. Just waiting for his Fellowship
     
    now—once he's got that he'll be away from St. Edith'smore's the pity."
    Staff's eulogy of her idol went on for quite a time, and would have gone on longer if Fay had not shown signs of a desire that they should both get on with their work. That brought Kate Moore, with a twinkle in her eye, to her final quip. "But now, Sister dear, don't you be getting any notions into that pretty head of yours—for he's married, is our Mr. Osborne, well and truly married, with the two most desirable children you've ever cast eyes upon."
    "Yes, thank you, Staff—I know that. I've seen their photographs."
    "Then you'll be knowing they're the spit and image of him with those great dark eyes—"
    Fay soon learned how to control Staff's garrulity, as she learned, too, how to control her feelings about Mark. His daily visits to the ward soon ceased to trouble her at all. Indeed, she began to enjoy them, for working with him was a pleasure. He was always so willing to explain his side of a case and so ready to listen when, on behalf of the patient, she put the other side of the picture. He was, she found,