It was the half-playful, but wholly
kind dignity that had won for him Priscilla's faith and dependence.
For a week or two after Gordon Moffatt's operation things went calmly and
prosaically at the hospital. The rich man recovered so rapidly and
satisfactorily that even the outside world took things for granted, and
any items of news concerning him were to be found on the inside pages of
the newspapers. During his convalescence Priscilla met Doctor Ledyard and
Doctor Travers many times. Once, by some mysterious arrangement, she was
assigned charge, in the rich man's room, while his own nurse was absent.
For three days and nights she obeyed his impatient commands and reasoned
with him when he confused his dependent condition with his usual
domineering position.
"Damn me!" he once complained to Travers when he thought Priscilla was
out of hearing; "that young woman you've given charge over me ought to
have a bigger field for her accomplishments. She's a natural-born tyrant.
I tried to escape her this morning; had got as far as one foot out of bed
when she bore down upon me, calmly, devilishly calmly, pointed to my
offending foot, and said: "Back, sir!" Then we argued a bit--I'm afraid I
was a trifle testy--and finally she laid hands upon my ankle in the most
scientific manner and had me on my back before I could think of the
proper adjectives to apply to her impudence.
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