Transcript

Chapter IX · The White Sister

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Chapter No. Nine of The White Sister. This is a LibriVox recording.
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All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer,
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please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording by Kate Ruddek The White Sister by
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F. Marion Crawford, Chapter nine. During the month of December, the
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Princess Kyodomante fell ill, much to her own surprise and that of her children,
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for such a thing had never happened to her since she had been a
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mere child and had caught the measles. But there was no mistaking the fact
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that she now had a bad attack of the influenza, with high fever,
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and her head felt very light. During the first two days she altogether refused
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to stay in her room, which made matters worse. But on the third
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morning she yielded and stayed in bed, very miserable and furiously angry with herself.
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It had always been her favorite boast that she never caught cold, never
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had a headache, and never broke down from fatigue, and considering the exceedingly
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gay life she had led, she certainly had some cause to be vain of
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her health. Her eldest daughter and her maid took care of her that day,
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and her maids sat up with her during the following night, after which
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it became quite clear that she must have a professional nurse. The doctor insisted
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upon it, though the princess herself flew into a hopeless rage at the mere
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suggestion, and then all at once, and before the doctor had left the
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room, she began to talk quite quietly about ordering baby frocks and a preambulator,
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though her youngest boy was already twelve years old and went to school at
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the Instituto Massimo. The doctor and the maid looked at each other, I
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will telephone for one of the white sisters, the doctor said. They're the
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ones I am used to, and I know the mother superior. It happened
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that the nurses of Santa Giovanna were much in demand of that time, for
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there was an epidemic of influenza in the city, and as they were almost
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all both ladies and Italians, society people preferred them to those of other orders.
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Three quarters of an hour after the doctor had telephoned, one of them
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appeared at the Palazzo Ciarromante, a rather stout grave woman of forty or more
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who knew her business. She had once said, however, that she had
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come on emergency but could not stay later than the evening, when another sister
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would replace her. It would be her turn on the next morning to begin
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her week as supervising nun in the convent hospital, a duty taken in rotation
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by three of the most experienced nuns, and it was absolutely necessary that she
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should have her night's rest before taking charge of the wards. The princess had
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fallen into a state of semi consciousness, which was neither sleep nor stupor,
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but partook of both, and her face was scarlet from the fever. Two
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or three times in the course of the afternoon. However, she was evidently
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aware of the nurse's presence, and she submitted without resistance to all that was
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done to her. The maid, who had been in the sick room all
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night and all the morning, was now asleep, and the doctor had advised
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that the children should be kept away from their mother altogether. When the doctor
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came again about six o'clock, the nun explained her own position to him and
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begged him to communicate with the convent before leaving the palace, as the princess
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should certainly not be left without proper care even for an hour. He did
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what she asked, and the answer came back in the Mother's Superior's own voice.
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She said that she was very short of nurses, and that it would
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be extremely inconvenient to send one, and she therefore begged of him to get
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a sister from another order. He replied, very curiously that he would do
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nothing of the sort, that he believed in the white sisters and meant to
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have a white sister, and that a white sister must come, and a
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good one, and that if it was only a matter of inconvenience, it
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was better that the convent should be inconvenienced for him than that he should be
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disappointed. And he added so much more to the same effect, with so
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many emphatic repetitions, that the Mother Superior promised to break all rules and come
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herself within an hour if no other sister were available, for she had a
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very high regard for him, in spite of his rough tone and harsh voice.
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Her difficulty was a very simple one. The only nurse who was free
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that evening was Sister Giovanna, who had returned just before midday from a case
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that had ended badly, and she had been asleep ever since. But the
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Mother Superior knew how the princess had treated her niece and robbed her of her
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fortune, and she could not foresee what might happen if the young nun took
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charge of the case. After giving her somewhat rash promise to the doctor.
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She sent for her therefore and explained matters. Do not think my aunt will
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recognize me, said sister Giovanna. She has never set eyes on me since
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I was a girl of eighteen in deep mourning. Our dress changes us very
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much, and I must have changed two in five years. Even my voice
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is not the same. I fancy. The Mother Superior looked at her keenly.
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She was very fond of her, but it had never occurred to her
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to consider whether the young sister's appearance had altered or not. Yet her own
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memory for faces was good, and when she recalled the features of the slim,
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fair haired girl in black whom she had first seen, and compared the
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recollection with the grave and almost saintly faced before her, closely confined by the
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white wimple in gorget and the white veil that bound the forehead low above the
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serious brow, she really did not believe that anyone could easily recognize the Angela
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of other days. I suppose I never realize how changed we all are,
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she said thoughtfully. But do you think the Princess cared little Monte may remember
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you when she hears your name? Many sisters have taken it, Sister Giovanna
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answered, And after all, what harm can there be if she recognizes me
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and is angry. She can only send me away, And meanwhile she will
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be taken care of at least for the night. That is the main thing,
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Mother, And one of the scissors will surely be free tomorrow morning.
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So the matter was settled. Sister Giovanna got her well worn little black bag,
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her breviary, and her long black cloak, and in half an hour
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she was ascending the grand staircase of the palace in which she had lived as
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a child. She felt more emotion than she had expected, but no sign
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betrayed that she was moved, nor showed the servant who led her through the
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apartments and passages that she was familiar with every turn. Though she went to
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the Great Hall, and her feet trod upon the very spot where the dead
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Knight of Malta had lain in state, not a sigh escaped her, nor
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one quickly drawn breath. She was ushered to the very room that had been
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her father's, and stood waiting. After the servant had tapped softly at the
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door, the other nun came out noiselessly and pulled the door after her,
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without quite closing it. She explained the case to Sister Giovanna and said that
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the princess seemed to be asleep again. She probably knew nothing of any relationship
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between the patient and Sister Giovanna, but if she remembered anything of the latter's
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story, it was not her business to comment on the circumstance, even mentally.
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Even in the nursing orders, where the real names of the sisters may
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often be known to others beside the mother's superior, the sisters themselves scrupulously respect
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one another's secret, though it may be almost an open one, and never
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discuss the identity of a member of their community. Where nuns are cloistered,
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actual secrecy is preserved as far as possible, and though a sister may sometimes
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talk to another about her former life and especially of her childhood, she never
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mentions her family by name, even though she may be aware that the truth
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is known. Sister Giovanna entered the sick room alone, as the other nurse
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seemed to think that the unexpected sight of two nuns may disturb the patient.
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If the princess noticed the new face when she next opened her eyes, she
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made no remark and showed no surprise, so that Sister Giovanna felt quite sure
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of not having been recognized. There was very little light in the room too,
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by the doctor's advice, and a high screen covered with old cord of
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a leather stood between the bed and the table on which the single shaded candle
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was placed. The nun stood beside the pillow and looked long at the face
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of the woman who had wronged her so cruelly and shamefully. After a few
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seconds she could see her very distinctly in the shadow. The features were flushed
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in full, and strangely younger than when she had last seen them, as
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often happens with fair people of a certain age at the beginning of a sharp
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fever, when the quickened pulse sends the hot blood to the cheeks and brings
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back the vivid brilliancy of youth. But the experienced nurse knew that and was
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not surprised. After taking the temperature and doing all she could for the moment,
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she left the bedside and sat down to read her breviary by the light
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on the other side of the screen. The illness was only an attack of
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influenza, after all, and she knew how strong her aunt had always been.
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There was no cause for anxiety, nor any necessity for sitting constantly within
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sight of the patient. Twice an hour, she rose, went to the
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sick woman's side and gave her medicine or drink, or merely smoothed the pillow
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a little, as the case might be, and then came back to the
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table. The princess was not so restless as most people are in fever,
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and she did not try to talk, but took whatever was given her like
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a model of resignation. The delirium had left her for the present, reading
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slowly and often meditating on what she read. Sister Giovanna did not finish the
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office for the day and close her book till nearly midnight. Her old watch
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lay on the table beside the candlestick, and her eyes were on the hands
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as she waited till it should be exactly twelve before taking the patient's temperature again,
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but it still wanted three minutes of the hour. When the princess's voice
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broke the profound silence. The words were spoken quietly, in a far away
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tone. I stole it. Sister Giovanna started more nervously than a nurse should,
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and looked straight at the screen as if she could see her aunt's face
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through the leather. In a few seconds, she heard the voice again,
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though the tone was lower, the words were as distinct as if spoken close
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to her ear. I hid it on me and left my little bag behind
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on purpose, because the footman would be sure to open that to take my
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cigarettes. I knew he often did. It was very clever of me,
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was it not. He will swear that he went back for the bag,
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and that there were no papers in it. It was not the first time,
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by many that Sister Giovanna had heard a delirious patient till a shameful secret
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that had been kept long and well. She rose with an effort, pressing
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one hand upon the table. It was plainly her duty to prevent any further
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revelations if she could, and to forget what she had heard. For a
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trained nurse's standard of honor must be as high as a doctor's, since she
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is trusted as he is. Yet the nun waited a moment before going round
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the screen, unconsciously arguing that if the patient did not speak again, it
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would be better not to disturb her at that moment to tell the truth too.
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Sister Giovanna had not fully understood the meaning of what her aunt had said.
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She stood motionless during the long pause that followed the last words. Then,
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without warning, the delirious woman began to laugh, vacantly and foolishly at
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first, and with short interruptions of silence, but then more loudly, and
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by degrees more continuously, till the spasms grew wild and hysterical and bad to
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hear. Sister Giovanna went quickly to her and at once tried to put a
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stop to the attack. The princess was rolling her head from side to side
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on the pillows, and her arms stretched out on either side of her,
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and her white hands clawing at the broad hem of the sheet with all their
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strength, as if they must tear the fine linen tois strips, and she
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was shrieking with uncontrollable laughter. Sister Giovanna bent down and grasped one arm firmly
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with both hands. Control yourself, she said, in a tone of command.
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Stop laughing at once. The princess shrieked again and again. Silence,
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cried the nurse in a stern voice, and she shook the arm she held
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with a good deal of roughness, for she knew that there was no other
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way. The delirious woman screamed once more, and then gulped several times,
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as if she were going to sob. At last, she lay quite still
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for a moment, gazing up into the nurse's eyes. Then a change came
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into her face, and she spoke in a hoarse whisper, as if frightened.
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Are you going to refuse me absolution for taking the will? She asked.
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The question was so unexpected that sister Giovanna did not find anything to say
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at once, and before any words occurred to her, the princess was speaking
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hurriedly and earnestly, but still in a loud whisper, which occasionally broke into
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a very low and trembling tone of voice. I did it for the best.
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What could that wretched girl have done with the money? Even if the
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lawyers had proved the will good? Why did not my brother in law get
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civilly married instead of leaving his daughter without so much as a name. There
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must have been a reason. Perhaps she was not really his wife's child.
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It was all his fault, and the will was not legal and would only
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have given trouble if I had not let them find it. So I took
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it away and burned it in my own room. What harm was there in
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that? It saved so many useless complications, and we had a right to
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the fortune, The lawyer said, So I cannot see that it was really
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a sin at all, father, Indeed I cannot. I have confessed it
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from a scripple of consciousness, and you will not refuse me absolution. How
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can you? When I say I am sorry for it, Yes, yes,
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I am, the voice rose to a low cry. Since you say
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it was a sin, I repent. I will what you are not in
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earnest father, make restitution, give the whole fortune to a nun. Oh
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no, no, you cannot expect me to do that, rob my children
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of what would have been theirs even if I had not taken the will.
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It is out of the question, I tell you, utterly, out of
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the question. Besides, it is not mine at all. I have not
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got a penny of it. It is all my husband's and I could not
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touch it. Do you understand, Sister Giovanna had listened in spite of herself.
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The nun expects nothing and does not want the money, she said,
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bending down, Try to rest now, for you are very tired. Rest,
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cried the princess, starting up in bed and leaning on one hand.
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How can I rest when it torments me day and night. I come to
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you for absolution and you refuse it and tell me to rest? She broke
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into a wild laugh again, But Sister Giovanna instantly seized her arm as she
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had done before, and spoke in the same commanding way. Be silent,
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she said energetically. The delirious woman began to whine, You are rough,
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father, so unkind today. What is the matter with you? You never
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treated me like this before. She was sobbing the next moment, and real
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tears trickled through her fingers as she covered her face with her hands. You
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see how how penitent I am, she managed to cry, in a broken
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voice. Have pity, father. She was crying bitterly, But though she
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was out of her mind, the nun could not help feeling that she was
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acting a part, even in her delirium, and in spite of the tears
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that forced themselves through her hands and ran down, wetting the lace and spotting
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the scarlet ribbons of her elaborate night dress. Sister Giovanna put aside the thought
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as a possibly unjust judgment, and tried to quiet her. If you are
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really sorry for what you did, you will be forgiven, said the nun.
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This produced an immediate effect. The sobbing subsided, the tears ceased to
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flow, and the princess repeated the act of contrition in a low voice.
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Then she her hands and waited in silence. Sister Giovanna stood upright beside the
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pillows and prayed very earnestly in her heart that she might forget what she had
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heard, or at least bare her aunt no grudge for the irreparable wrong.
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But the delirious woman, who still fancied that her nurse was her confessor,
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was waiting for the words of absolution, and after a few moments, as
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she did not hear them, she broke out again in senseless terror, was
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sobbing in more tears. She grasped the sister's arms wildly and dried herself up
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till she was on her knees in bed, imploring and weeping, pleading and
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sobbing, while she trembled visibly from head to foot. The case was a
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difficult one even for unexperienced nurse. A laywoman might have taken upon herself to
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personate the priest and pronounce the words of the absolution in the hope of quieting
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the patient. But no member of a religious order would do such a thing
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except to save life, and such a case could hardly arise. The Prince
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Suskierromante was in no bodily danger, and the chances were that the delirium would
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leave her before long. When it disappeared, she would probably fall asleep,
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and it was very unlikely that she should remember anything she had said in her
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ravings. Meanwhile, it was certainly not good for her to go on crying
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and throwing herself about as she was doing, for the fever was high already
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and her wild excitement might increase the temperature still further. Sister Giovanna took advantage
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of a brief interval when she was perhaps only taking breath between her lamentations,
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out of sheer necessity. You must compose yourself, the nun said, with
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authority, you seem to forget that you have been ill. Lie down for
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a little while, and I will come back presently. In the meantime,
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I give you my word that your niece has forgiven you with all her heart.
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She could say that with a clear conscience. Just then, in gently
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disengaging herself, she succeeded without much difficulty in making the princess lay her head
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on the pillow, for the words had produced a certain effect. Then,
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leaving the bedside, she went back to the table, but she did not
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sit down, and only remained standing about a minute. Before going back to
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the patient. She went round by the opposite side of the screen, however,
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with the hope that the princess, seeing her come from another direction,
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would take her for a different person. Very small things sometimes affect people in
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delirium, and the little artifice was successful. She came forward, speaking cheerfully
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in her ordinary voice, and at once put her arm under the pillow propping
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her aunt's head in order to make her drink comfortably. There was no resistance.
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Now you are much better already, she said, in an encouraging tone.
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Does your headache much? It feels a little light, the princess said,
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quite naturally, but it does not hurt me. Now. I think
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I've been asleep and dreaming too. Perhaps some suspicion that she had been raving
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lost her unsettled brain, for she glanced quickly at the nun and then shut
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her eyes. Yes, she said, apparently satisfied, I have been dreaming.
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Sister Giovanna only smiled as sympathetically as she could, and, sitting down
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by the head of the bed, she stroked the burning forehead with her cool
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hand softly and steadily for several minutes, and little by little the princess sank
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into a quiet sleep, for she was exhausted by the effort she had unconsciously
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made when she was breathing regularly. The nun left her side and went noiselessly
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back to her seat behind the screen. She did not open her breviary again
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that night. For a long time. She sat quite still and her hands
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folded on the edge of the table, gazing into the furthest corner of the
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room with unwinking eyes. She had said that she forgave her aunt with all
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her heart, and she had believed that it was true, but she was
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less sure now that she could think of her past life and of what might
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have been if she had not been driven from her home, destitute and forced
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to take refuge with Madame Bernard. In the light of what she had just
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learned, the past had a very different look. It was true that she
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had urged Giovanni to join the expedition, and had used arguments which had convinced
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herself as well as him, But she had made him go because if he
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had stayed, he would have sacrificed his career in the army in order to
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earn bread for her, who was penniless. If she had inherited even a
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part of the fortune that should have been hers, it never would have occurred
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to him to leave the service and go into business for her support, or
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if it had crossed his mind, she would have dissuaded him easily enough.
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So far as mere money went, he had not wanted or needed it for
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himself but for her, And if she had been rich and had married him,
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he could not have been reproached with living on her. To persuade him,
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she had urged that his honor required him to accept a post of danger
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instead of resigning from the army. As as it was offered to him,
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and this had been true to some extent. But if there had been no
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question of his leaving the service, she would have found him plenty of satisfactory
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reasons for not going to Africa, and he had not been the kind of
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man whom gossips care to call a coward. Reasons she would have invented twenty
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in those days when she was not a nun but just a loving girl with
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all her womanhood before her. If her aunt had not stolen the will and
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robbed her, she would have hindered Giovanni from leaving Italy, and she would
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have married him. That was the plain truth. He would have been alive
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now, in his youth and his strength and his love for her, instead
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of having perished in the African desert. That was the thought that tormented the
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guilty woman too. It was the certainty that her crime had indirectly sent him
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to his death. So thought sister Giovanna as she sat staring into the dark
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corner through the hours of the night, and she wondered how she had been
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able to say that she forgave, or had dared to hope that she could
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forget. If it had been only for herself, it might have been quite
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different, but her imagination had too often unwillingly pictured the tragic death of the
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man she had loved so well to forgive the woman who had caused it.
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Now that she had revealed herself at last, so long as Angela had believed
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that her father had left no will because he had been in ignorance of the
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law, she had been able to tell herself that her great misfortune had been
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inevitable. But since it turned out that he had provided for her and had
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done his duty by her according to his light, the element of inevitable fate
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disappeared, and the awful conviction that Giovanni's life had been wantonly sacrificed to enrich
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Princess Carolmante and her children forced itself upon her intelligence it would not be thrust
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out. It seemed a Sister Giovanna that this was the first real temptation that
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had assailed her since she had taken her vows, the first moment of acting
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to regret for what might have been as distinguished from the heartfelt sorrow for the
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man who had perished, which had not been incompatible with a religious life.
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Recalling the mother's superiors words, of warning. She recorded her failure as the
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first of its kind, and prayed that it might not be irrevitable, and
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that resentment and regret might ebb away and leave her again as she had been
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before the unforgettable voice had pierced her ears with the truth she had never guessed.
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It was a great effort now to go to the bedside and do what
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must be done for the sick woman, to smooth the pillow for the head
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that had thought such thoughts, and to stroke the hands that had done such
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a deed. She was tempted to take the little black bag and leave the
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house quietly before anyone was up. That was not a very dreadful thought,
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of course, but it seemed terrible to her, whose first duty in life
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was to help sufferers and soothe those who were in pain. It seemed to
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her almost as bad as if a soldier in battle were suddenly tempted to turn
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his back on his comrades, throw down his rifle, and run away.
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She felt it each time that she had to rise and go round the screen,
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and when she saw the flushed face on the pillow in the shadow,
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the longing to be gone was almost greater than she could resist. She had
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not understood before, but it meant to loathe any living thing. But she
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knew it now. And if she did her duty conscientiously that night, easy
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and simple though it was, she deserved more credit than many of the sisters
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who had gone so bravely to nurse the lepers in far Rangoon. She did
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not feel the smallest wish to hurt the woman who had injured her. Let
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that be said in her praise, for though vengeance be the lord's to long
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for, it is human. She only desired to be out of the house,
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and out of sight of the face that lay where her fathers had lain,
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and beyond reach of the voice that had told her what she wished she
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had never known. But there was no escape, and she had to bear
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it. And when the night wore away at last, it had been the
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longest she remembered in all her life. Her face was as white as the
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mother's superiors, and her dark blue eyes looked almost black. Even Madame Bernard
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would not have recognized the bright haired Angela of other days in the weary and
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sad faced None who met the doctor outside the door of the sick room when
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he came at eight o'clock. She told him that the patient had been delirious
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about midnight, but had rested tolerably ever since. He glanced at the temperature
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charge she brought him, and then looked keenly at her face and frowned.
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What is the matter with all of you white sisters, he growled discontentedly.
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First they send me one who cannot stay over night, and then they send
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me one who has not been to bed for a week and ought to stay
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there for a month. When did you leave your last case yesterday morning,
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answered Sister Giovanna submissively. I slept most of the afternoon. I not and
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can do my work very well, I assure you. Oh you can,
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can you? The excellent man glared at her savagely through his spectacles. You
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cannot say anything yourself, of course, but I shall go to your hospital
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to day and give your mother Superior such a scolding as she never had in
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her life. She ought to be ashamed to send out a nurse in your
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worn out condition. I felt quite fresh and rested when I left the convent
27:26
in the evening, said the sister. In answer, it is not the
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mother's Superior's fault, it is retorted the doctor, who could not bear contradiction.
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She ought to know better, and I shall tell her. So go
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home at once, sister, and go to bed and stay there. I
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am quite able to work, protested Sister Giovanna quietly. There is nothing the
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matter with me. Still, the doctor glared at her. Show me your
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tongue, he said roughly. The nun meekly opened her mouth and put out
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her little tongue. It was as pink as a rose leaf. The doctor
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grunted and grabbed her wrist and began to count the pulse. Presently, he
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made another inarticulate noise, as if he were both annoyed and pleased at having
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been mistaken. Something on your mind, he asked, more kindly, some
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mental distress, Yes, the word was spoken reluctantly. I am sorry.
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I was impatient, he said, and his large brown eyes softened behind his
28:23
roun spectacles as he turned to enter the sick room. It was not his
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business to ask what had so greatly disturbed the peace of Sister Giovanna. End
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of chapter number nine