Free Love for the Matron by Elizabeth Houghton Page B

ones, and nowhere a sigh of mystery. The ward was tidy, but it was a comfortable tidiness that gave an atmosphere of homeliness.
    As they reached the doorway of the end ward Sister Moffatt glanced-inquiringly at Elizabeth. “Doctor Gregory was asking me if we could take the younger lads from Men ’ s Medical here when the builders begin their work. I told him I ’ d be very glad to as it never seemed right for them to be with the older men like that, but that it wasn ’ t really up to me to say. With Easter being early this year there shouldn ’ t be so much pressure in our beds.”
    “It would be the easiest answer, Sister Moffatt, if you wouldn ’ t mind the extra work. Some of them are cardiacs, but you would have some of the staff from Men ’ s Medical if necessary.”
    “We could see how we go on, Miss Graham. This is not a heavy ward as a rule.” She handed the child she was still carrying to an approaching nurse. “See that she has her orange juice, Nurse Williams.”
    “How do you feel about the change-over to assistant nurses, Sister?” Elizabeth felt safe in asking this happy-faced little woman. There was no hostility here.
    “I ’ ll miss our own girls, but I think the change is a wise one. So often the type who trains as an assistant nurse is what I would call a good girl ... too much knowledge hasn ’ t come between her and her natural instinct for caring for the sick, which after all is the main reason why she was attracted to nursing in the first place. I know learning is supposed to be a wonderful thing, but there are times when the price paid for it is the sacrifice of a girl ’ s more womanly qualities, Miss Brown and I often used to discuss the subject.”
    Elizabeth remembered the frightened little junior nurse in a hurry who had spoken of Miss Brown ’ s coming to tell stories to the children when the pain got bad...
    “Where is Miss Brown now?” Elizabeth asked casually.
    Sister Moffatt gazed at her with eyes that had gone suddenly serious. “I think she wanted to keep it to herself. She said she was taking time off to make her soul, and if the Good Lord were willing she would take up the fight again ... if not we were to think about her now and again. As if any of us could ever forget!”
    Elizabeth felt that she had strayed into a shrine in a strange land where none of the ritual was known to her. “Thank you for telling me, Sister Moffatt,” she said as calmly as she could.
    Sister Moffatt was smiling again. “Let me know when you want me to have the boys, Miss Graham, so that I can have a good clear-out first.”
    Elizabeth continued on her way around the other wards, but her thoughts kept slipping back to the Children ’ s Ward. True, there had been no hostility or resentment there and nothing but co-operation, but there had been a dignified air about the department that suggested that strangers were welcome provided they kept to the proper paths and didn ’ t want to walk on the grass marked private .
    Sister Ross came hurrying up to her as she reached Men’s Surgical. “Good morning, Miss Graham. I didn ’ t know you were doing your round. Mr. Hingston wanted to see you and I sent him along to your office.”
    Elizabeth glanced at the clock ... nearly eleven. She could go and offer coffee to her senior surgeon and come back to Men ’ s Surgical afterwards.
    “Could you tell Miss Smith that I ’ m on my way, Sister Ross, and I ’ ll see your ward later.”
    “ Certainly, Matron.” Sister Ross bustled away.
    Not one of them . Elizabeth decided. This one was competent at her job and not bothered about the clash between the old and new loyalties and would have little tie for or interest in resentment.
    A tall thin man unfolded himself from the chair in her office where Margaret Smith had put him. Good morning, Matron. I ’ m sorry I was still hors de combat yesterday and unable to greet you properly.”
    Elizabeth took the hand he offered her. “Good morning, Mr.