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Updated: May 22, 2025
"The ward is heavy, isn't it?" "Very. I've been almost mad at dressing hour. There are three of us you, myself, and a probationer." The first light of the Christmas morning was coming through the windows. Carlotta put out the lights and turned in a business-like way to her records. "The probationer's name is Wardwell," she said. "Perhaps you'd better help her with the breakfasts.
They are not half-trained nurses but fully trained ambulance workers, ready to do probationer's work under the fully trained sisters, or if necessary to be wardmaid, laundress, charwoman, or cook, as the case may be.
The Probationer's name was really Nella Jane Brown, but she was entered in the training school as N. Jane Brown. However, she meant when she was accepted to be plain Jane Brown. Not, of course, that she could ever be really plain. People on the outside of hospitals have a curious theory about nurses, especially if they are under twenty. They believe that they have been disappointed in love.
They stood or sat in groups looking over a probationer's thesis. It consisted of diagrams of machinery. Andrew did not see the sketches, though they were handed round separately for inspection, but he listened eagerly to the president's explanations. "The first," said the president, "is a beautiful little instrument worked by steam.
The sunlight came in and turned to glory, not only the tulips and the red tablecloth, but also the brass basins, the fireplace fender, and the Probationer's hair. Twenty-two sat unnoticed in the doorway. A young girl, very lame, with a mandolin, had just entered the ward.
But perhaps you're tired of mission work already?" the old priest inquired with a quick glance at Mark as if he would see how much of the real stuff existed underneath that probationer's cassock. "This is an active Order, isn't it?" Mark countered. "Of course, I'm not tired of mission work.
The Senior Nurse, having finished the M's, glanced up and surprised a tear on the Probationer's round young cheek. She was wise, having trained many probationers. "Go to first supper, please," she said.
Once more he took Andrew by the hand, and led him into the meeting-room; and still his eyes were fixed on the probationer's neck. There seemed to be something about it that he liked. It was not then, with the committee all around him, but long afterwards at Wheens, that Andrew was struck by the bareness of the chambers. Without the president's presence they had no character.
Whilst the hymn was being sung, the probationer's earnest eyes rested as often on the yellow-haired girl at the harmonium as on his particular charge, the dusky choir. The eleven girls stood in a crescent, some modest and demure enough, but others looking bold, their wanton, roving eyes and generously developed figures being much in evidence.
You ought to know enough about professional ethics for that." He went away, then, and had a violent headache, which he blamed on confinement and lack of exercise. But he had sowed something in the Probationer's mind. For she knew, suddenly, that he had been right. The Staff had meant that, then, when they looked at Johnny and shook their heads. The Staff knew, the hospital knew.
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