Very soon, Ida found herself taking an interest in everything that went

on, in the noiseless movements of the nurses, in the arrival of a new

case, in the visit of the doctors and the chaplain, and the friends of

the other patients. Let the pessimists say what they may, there is a

lot of good in human nature; and it comes out quite startlingly in the

ward of a hospital. Ida was amazed at the care and attention, the

patience and the devotion which were lavished on herself and her

fellow-sufferers; a devotion which no money can buy, and which could

not have been exceeded if they had one and all been princesses of the

blood royal.

Advertisement..

One instance of this whole-souled devotion and unstinting charity

occurred on the third day and brought the tears to her eyes, not only

then but whenever she thought of it in the after years. A tiny mite of

a baby, only a few weeks old was brought into the ward and laid in a

cot not very far from Ida's bed. The nurses and the doctors crowded

round it with eager attention. It was watched day and night; if it

cried, at the first note of the feeble wail, a couple of nurses flew to

the cot, and, if necessary, a famous physician was telephoned for: and

came promptly and cheerfully. The whole ward was wrapped up in the tiny

mite, and Ida leant on her elbow and craned forward to get a glimpse of

it; and felt towards it as she would have felt if it had been a little

sick or wounded lamb in Herondale.

"What is the matter with it, poor little thing?" she asked the sister.

"The spine," replied the sister, bending tenderly over the cot and

taking the emaciated little paw in her comforting, ministering hand.

"Will it get well?" asked Ida, quite anxiously.

The sister shook her head.

"Lor' bless me!" said Ida's neighbour, pityingly. "It 'ud be almost

better if the pore little thing died!"

The sister looked up with mild surprise.

"Oh, yes; it can't live longer than three weeks," she said, as sadly as

if she had not seen a score of similar cases.

Ida lay down, her eyes filled with tears, her heart filled with awe and

wonder. Perhaps for the first time in her life she understood what

charity meant. Here was a waif of the slums, doomed to die in so many

weeks, and yet it was the object of the loving devotion of every nurse

in the ward, with every comfort and luxury which an age of civilisation

could supply, and the recipient of the enthusiastic attention of a

great surgeon whose name was famous throughout the world.




Most Popular