“I was waiting for this. Of course I didn’t know whether I should hear anything. But it came this morning. Miss Anna Pleydell’s and Miss Henrietta Marlington’s application to train at Kaiserwald is accepted.”
“Henrietta!” I cried.
“Say I’ve been clever.”
“You have been magnificent, and so secretive.”
“I wanted to burst on you with the whole of the good news. It’s never so effective piecemeal.”
“It’s wonderful.”
“When do we go?”
“Next month?”
“So long to wait?”
“We have to get ready. Besides, we must be here for Lily’s wedding.”
“There’ll be a lot to do. How long shall we be away?”
“Three months, I believe.”
“Does it take that long to train?”
“I can learn a lot in three months. So can you.”
I smiled. It was just what I needed. I wanted to get right away from my thoughts of Aubrey, and having been at the Minster my yearnings for my child had become more intense again.
On a brisk October day Lily was married.
I was pleased to see such a happy sequel to her story. She was radiant and William seemed a very pleasant young man.
Mr. and Mrs. Clift were obviously delighted by the marriage and already fond of Lily; so everything seemed perfect.
The bridal pair were to have a week’s honeymoon in Brighton and then Lily would take up her abode in the Clift household.
Jane and Polly were a little subdued. They were going to lose not only Lily but us. It would be as it had been before I came home, they said.
“Not quite,” I replied, ‘because you’ll be visiting Lily and she will be coming here. She is only going to live round the corner and we shall only be away for a few months. “
“It won’t be quite the same,” said Jane.
“Life never is,” added Polly lugubriously.
Joe was downcast, too.
“Carriages wasn’t meant to sit in mews stables, and horses was meant to be exercised,” he commented.
I told him he must take the carriage out regularly.
“Carriages without passengers is like stew without dumplings,” said Jane.
“It’s not forever. We shall be back.”
Nothing could stem our excitement and we went ahead with our preparations.
At the end of that October Jane and Polly stood at the door waving us off. Polly wiped an eye and I realized afresh how fond I was of them.
Joe drove us to the station.
“I’ll be there to pick you up when you come back,” he said.
“And I’m hoping that will be sooner than later.”
“We shall look for you, Joe,” I said.
“What is it that the newsboys are calling out?”
Joe cocked an ear.
“Something about Russia. There’s always something about Russia.”
“Listen,” I said.
“Russia and Turkey at war,” said Henrietta.
“Well, someone is always at war.”
“War!” I said.
“I hate it. I think of William Clift. It would be awful if he had to go overseas.”
“Russia … Turkey …” said Henrietta.
“That’s a long way off.”
It was true; and we forgot about the war and gave our minds to what lay before us.
When I saw Kaiserwald, I felt as though I had stepped into an enchanted land which belonged in a fairy tale. The house had been a small schloss, with towers and turrets, which had belonged to a nobleman who had given it to the Deaconesses to be used as a hospital.
It was situated among mountains wooded hills and forest. It was a perfect setting, for the bracing air of the mountains was said to be good for patients suffering from respiratory diseases; indeed, such air would be good for us all. A carriage had been waiting to bring us up to the house, and as it climbed the steep road I had felt more and more exhilarated; and when I glanced at Henrietta, I could see that she shared my feelings.
I could smell the redolent odour of pine; I could hear the water of the falls which tumbled down the mountains. Now and then we heard the tinkle of a bell which, our driver told us, meant that cows were nearby. There was a faint haziness in the air which touched everything with a misty blue. Even before I saw Kaiserwald I was entranced.
We came to a clearing in the forest and the carriage pulled up abruptly. A girl was crossing our path. Her long fair hair streamed down her back and she carried a stick; before her waddled six geese, who refused to be hurried.
Our driver called out something to her, to which she responded with a shrug of the shoulders. My German was far from perfect. I had forgotten most of what I had learned at school but I did gather that she was Gerda the Goosegirl who lived with her grandmother in a cottage nearby. He tapped his forehead.
“A little short up there,” he said, which with the help of the gesture I was able to translate.
I replied haltingly that she made a very pretty picture with her geese.
Now we were at the schloss. In front of it was a small lake little more than a pond. Willows trailed in the water and with the mountains in the background it was a sight of breathtaking beauty.
“It’s wonderful,” said Henrietta; and I agreed wholeheartedly.
We drove into a courtyard and then alighted. A young woman came out to greet us. She wore a light blue gown with a white apron over it. She was fair-skinned and fair-haired; and she spoke English. She regarded us with some curiosity, and I fancied I detected a hint of scepticism. She told us afterwards that she had heard we were two English ladies of good family who were interested in nursing, and she did not think we would stay at Kaiserwald more than a week.
We were taken to our bedroom. It was a long dormitory with whitewashed walls and divided into cubicles. In each was a bed. These were our sleeping quarters, she told us, and we should wear white aprons over our gowns and be prepared to perform any tasks which were asked of us.
There were two hundred patients in the hospital, most of them seriously ill.
“We do not take them unless they are,” we were told.
“This place is for the truly sick; and those who come here have to work. It is not often that we have visiting ladies. The Head Deaconess has accepted you to please Miss Nightingale.”
We said we understood and I explained that we were eager to be trained nurses.
“It is only years of work among the sick which can make you that,” was the answer.
“We’re going to make a start,” said Henrietta with a dazzling smile.
Our guide gave her a look of disbelief; and I could understand that.
Henrietta gave the impression that she was made more for gaiety. As for myself, sorrow and experience had no doubt etched a few lines on my face. My manner was more serious, so perhaps I made a better impression.
We were introduced to our fellow workers. Very few of them spoke any English. They were religious people who had come to nursing because they had an aptitude for it. Most of them came from poor homes and it was a livelihood for them, but the atmosphere here was quite different from that which I hadi briefly glimpsed when I had gone to Lily in the London-hospital. We were taken to the Head Deaconess, a lady of great character. She was middle-aged with iron grey hair and cool grey eyes.
She told us: “Most of the patients here are suffering from J respiratory diseases. Some will never recover. They are sent here from other places throughout Germany because the air is I said to be beneficial. We have two resident doctors Dr. Bruckner and Dr. Kratz.”