Dear Tiberius; (aka Nurse Nolan)

Lucy wasn’t sure of her feelings. Sir John gave his invalid daughter, Miranda, all that money could buy -- but the child craved love. As her nurse, Lucy became the object of Miranda’s affections -- reluctantly, because her position was only temporary. She felt concerned when Sir John brought home Lynette Harling, a temperamental ballerina uninterested in the role of stepmother. But was Lucy’s concern for her patient or because of her feelings for Sir John?

A playful gust of wind t
ore along the terrace and was very nearly successful in lifting Nurse Lucy Nolan
’
s cap from her neat dark curls. As she reaffixed it firmly—taking care this time that no other freakish zephyr should deprive her of it altogether—Miranda, in her wheelchair, put her head on one side and regarded her with interest.

“
Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are
Nurse Nolan?
”

Nurse Nolan, cap once more secure, and every other item of her precise dress exactly as she herself would have approved of it, put a finger beneath her chin and appeared to consider.

“
Well, now, since you mention it—yes! Numerous times, in fact! Such numerous times that I
’
ve forgotten half of them.
”

Miranda giggled delightedly, and nuzzled her head against the cushion behind her.

“
You know,
”
she said,
“
I think you
’
re saying that as a kind of joke, but
I
think you
’
re pretty—frightfully pretty! You
’
ve got such nice blue eyes, the smiley kind, and your eyelashes turn upward at the tips like little curly brooms. And your nose turns upward a bit, too.
”

“
That
’
s retrousse,
”
Lucy murmured.

“
That
’
s re—what did you say?
”

“
Never mind, darling, but that
’
s what it is. The freckles are just freckles.
”

“
You haven
’
t got any freckles—or, at least,
”
she said with strict honesty,
“
not very many. And freckles are fairy kisses.
”

“
Then I must be beloved by the fairies.
”

Miranda continued to survey her with a warm, glowing kind of smile in her sunken, cornflower-blue eyes. They were eyes that seemed to have captured the shadows of the sea on a stormy day, but they were bright, alive and intelligent, just the same.

“
It
’
s a funny thing,
”
she said,
“
but when I really like you best is on Sunday, just before you set off for church, and not when you
’
re wearing that uniform.
Must
you always wear a uniform?
”

“
Oh, dear me,
”
Lucy Nolan murmured, the smile very evident in her own blue eyes.
“
And
I
was kind of kidding myself that my uniform was really chic. And unfortunately
I
can
’
t spend my life setting off for church on Sundays, so it
’
s rather awkward.
”

“
You could be like Fiske, and wear ordinary clothes.
”

“
Fiske wears black alpaca, with ruchings of lace at the neck and wrists. I don
’
t think that sort of outfit would become me, somehow!
”

Miranda giggled afresh, obviously in entire agreement, and then she caught sight of a red admiral butterfly hovering close to her face and she cried out at once,
“
Oh, catch it! Do, do catch it, Noly! Just so that I can look at it, and then let it go again. I don
’
t want to do it any harm.
”

“
No, you wouldn
’
t do anybody any harm, now or ever!
”
Or that was what Nurse Nolan thought, as she got up to catch the butterfly.
“
Only one person has suffered a kind of fancied hurt as a result of your arrival in this world, my poor pet, and that is the august gentleman, your father. But even he may wake up one of these days!
”

She carried the butterfly, fluttering wildly in her deceptively soft fingers, which Miranda declared smelled always of a mixture of antiseptics and lavender toilet soap, to the occupant of the wheelchair, and the two heads bent over it, the one with the brown curls escaping from beneath the crisp little cap, and the other with fine gold tresses stirring gently in the breeze. Then Miranda gave the order for it to be released, and she watched almost breathlessly as it skimmed away across the wide expanse of lawn in the direction of the lake.

“
I think I
’
d like to be a butterfly
”
she remarked suddenly, and sighed.

Lucy tucked in an end of her rug, gave a soft little flick to her cheek, and then started to propel the wheelchair forward along the terrace.

“
Butterflies don
’
t live very long,
”
she observed.

“
But they can go wherever they want to go while they are alive, and that must be fun!
”

Lucy Nolan made no response to this, but as she, too, followed the progress of the butterfly, and guessed that its brilliant wings had already negotiated the placid surface of the lake, and were about to be swallowed up in the piled-up woods on the opposite shore, her heart was full of a deep sympathy for Miranda
’
s point of view. But all she said, as the cushioned wheels of the chair made a fat, kissing noise on the flagged floor of the terrace, and a couple of pigeons flew up and took refuge on the back of an ornamental stone lion, was,
“
It
’
s time for your lunch, my child, and I hope you
’
ve worked up something in the nature of an appetite for it! We
’
ve been once around the park, nearly halfway down the two-mile driveway, and sat out here for half an hour, and if all the good air you
’
ve gulped into your lungs in that time hasn
’
t made you hungry—well
,
I
’
ll refuse my own lunch!
”

“
You know I
’
m never hungry,
”
Miranda said pettishly.

“
That
’
s nothing to boast about!
”

“
You
’
ll have to coax me, as you always do,
”
the twelve-year-old informed her with a hint of a mischievous smile in her eyes as she looked around at her.

“
As to that, my sweet,
”
Lucy responded,
“
you
’
ll have to begin to coax yourself, or let Fiske coax you, because after next week I won
’
t be with you anymore!
”

She felt, rather than heard, Miranda give a gasp.
“
You mean you
’
re going away?
”

“
Right first time, clever girl!
”

“
But you can
’
t—you
can
’
t
go away!
”
Miranda made the effort to twist herself around in her chair, and she gazed upward imploringly.
“
Nurse Nolan—Lucy, you said I could call you Lucy sometimes—don
’
t you see that if you go away I
’
ll only have Fiske and Abbott, and what will I
do
?
Fiske is absolutely hopeless because she
’
s always in a flap, and as for Abbott well, you
know
what Abbott is like!
”

Lucy could not help laughing at the perturbation in the young voice.

“
Fiske is a very worthy spinster who has adored you all your life and spoiled you consistently, and I
’
m sure your father considers Mrs. Abbott an excellent housekeeper, and I personally like her very much indeed,
”
she replied, trying to sound severe. And then, more gently,
“
But why have you made up your mind—as it seems you have—that I could remain with you forever? You must know, Mirry, that you
’
re getting better now, although it
’
s true
you can
’
t walk yet
....”

“
Will I ever walk again?
”
Miranda asked, in a strange hard, unchildlike voice.

“
Why, of course you will, darling!
”
But the breath caught in Nurse Nolan
’
s throat, for at the present time no one knew whether Miranda would ever walk again. It was
hoped
that she would, but no one could be certain.
“
But it may take time, and
...
remember your father has to pay me for my
services as long as I
’
m here, and apart from the fact that you seem to find me amusing to have around, I
’
m not strictly important to you any longer. That is to say, you can do quite well without me.
”

“
You
think
I can,
”
Miranda said, clasping her emaciated fingers so tightly together that the nails dug into the spare flesh.
“
But can you imagine Fiske even
trying
to catch a red admiral butterfly, let alone holding it while I looked at it? Why, she can
’
t bear it if a moth gets into her room! And I don
’
t want to be smothered by affection. Not
her
affection, anyway! And I do wan
t
to laugh sometimes, and have someone laugh with me, and enjoy
silly little jokes, and
.
.
.
and
....”
She swallowed hard.

“
Fiske thinks Edward Lear
is
nonsense!
”

“
Well, that
’
s most unfortunate, I agree,
”
Lucy deplored, trying to make her voice sound light and merely faintly amused.
“
But there are other things in life apart from Edward Lear, and at least Fiske does like poetry. I
’
ve heard her recite to you quite often.
”

“
Yes—Macaulay
’
s
Armada
!”

“
That
’
s stirring enough!
”