Sad Cypress (Hercule Poirot 22) - Page 9

“What about massage?” suggested Nurse Hopkins. “Or Norland? You’re fond of children. There’s good money to be made in massage.”

Mary said doubtfully:

“It’s expensive to train for it, isn’t it? I hoped—but of course that’s very greedy of me—she’s done so much for me already.”

“Mrs. Welman, you mean? Nonsense. In my opinion, she owes you that. She’s given you a slap-up education, but not the kind that leads to anything much. You don’t want to teach?”

“I’m not clever enough.”

Nurse Hopkins said:

“There’s brains and brains! If you take my advice, Mary, you’ll be patient for the present. In my opinion, as I said, Mrs. Welman owes it to you to help you get a start at making your living. And I’ve no doubt she means to do it. But the truth of the matter is, she’s got fond of you, and she doesn’t want to lose you.”

Mary said:

“Oh!” She drew in her breath with a little gasp. “Do you really think that’s it?”

“I haven’t the least doubt of it! There she is, poor old lady, more or less helpless, paralysed one side and nothing and nobody much to amuse her. It means a lot to her to have a fresh, pretty young thing like you about the house. You’ve a very nice way with you in a sickroom.”

Mary said softly:

“If you really think so—that makes me feel better… Dear Mrs. Welman, I’m very, very fond of her! She’s been so good to me always. I’d do anything for her!”

Nurse Hopkins said drily:

“Then the best thing you can do is to stay where you are and stop worrying! It won’t be for long.”

Mary said, “Do you mean—?”

Her eyes looked wide and frightened.

The District Nurse nodded.

“She’s rallied wonderfully, but it won’t be for long. There will be a second stroke and then a third. I know the way of it only too well. You be patient, my dear. If you keep the old lady’s last days happy and occupied, that’s a better deed than many. The time for the other will come.”

Mary said:

“You’re very kind.”

Nurse Hopkins said:

“Here’s your father coming out from the lodge—and not to pass the time of day pleasantly, I should say!”

They were just nearing the big iron gates. On the steps of the lodge an elderly man with a bent back was painfully hobbling down the two steps.

Nurse Hopkins said cheerfully:

“Good morning, Mr. Gerrard.”

Ephraim Gerrard said crustily:

“Ah!”

“Very nice weather,” said Nurse Hopkins.

Old Gerrard said crossly:

“May be for you. ’Tisn’t for me. My lumbago’s been at me something cruel.”

Tags: Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot Mystery
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