Island Hospital by Elizabeth Houghton Read Free Book Online Page A

can’t even take a reprimand.”
    Sheila tried to speak calmly. “That’s not fair! I haven’t asked for favors, and if you give me the chance, I’ll say I’m sorry. I didn’t stop to think. I only went for a walk ... ” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t getting anywhere. Alan was still looking at her without sympathy or understanding.
    He was silent for a moment. “I know you’re new. I know you haven’t been in Canada before. If you only realized that you’re in the Canadian wilds and not next door to Hyde Park, you might get along better. You’ve got work to do. So’ve I. How about taking yours a bit more seriously?”
    “But I am. You’re not being quite fair. I was off duty.”
    “There you go again! What do you expect life to be? A ladylike game where everything is played to rule? If that’s what you’re looking for, you’d better take the very next boat back to England. You won’t find that here. Off duty or on duty you still belong to the harbor, and running risks is not part of the program. Okay? Or do you want to go back? Vancouver can use nurses if you don’t want to go all the way.”
    Sheila sat very still. She mustn’t lose her temper. She mustn’t let this red-headed doctor sweep her into the destruction of her plans.
    “I have no intention of returning to England or even of going to Vancouver. I came here to work and I intend to stay and fulfil my contract. I’m sorry you have such a poor opinion of English nurses ... at least of me ... I’m sorry I’ve put you to any trouble.”
    Alan Greenwood startled her by bursting into laughter. “My! My! Aren’t we hoity-toity?” He edged the canoe into the landing place. “Out you get, and try not to upset it this time!”
    Sheila got out nimbly enough. She stood there for a moment looking at him, her gray eyes very bleak in the half-light. She looked very lost and very alone.
    The man in the canoe softened his voice a little. “Don’t do it again, there’s a good girl. Tell dear Joyce I’ll be late for supper.” He picked up his paddle. “For goodness’ sake, think next time.” He was gone with an angry thrust that shot the canoe out from shore before Sheila could think of a single word in reply. She watched the dim shape until it was swallowed up in the shadows, then turned and made her way up to the hospital. Matron and Clare had already started supper.
    “Sorry I’m late,” she said meekly as she slipped into her place.
    Clare’s eyes were watchful. “H’mm. Where did you get to?”
    Sheila explained and the other girl relaxed visibly. Sheila made no secret of the ending of her adventure.
    Joyce Painter chuckled. “A good thing you didn’t have to swim for it. Even out here in the wilds that wouldn’t have been a conventional homecoming. I hate to admit it, but that young man was right. If you do get the wanderlust, just mention to someone the general direction you intend to take. I don’t want to frighten you, but you don’t have to go far off the beaten track before you’re in a sort of no-man’s land where, apart from the occasional trapper, only the song of the bird and the cry of the beast is heard.” She glanced across at Clare. “Remember that silly tourist who wanted to see the waterfall and took the short cut across the windfall?”
    Clare nodded and explained to Sheila. “A windfall is a fall of timber, either caused by a storm or a fire or bad logging operations ... fallen trees lie in all directions. You walk along the log feeling safe, then miss your footing and disappear into the abyss. If you’re lucky enough you crawl out again and manage to scramble up through the breaking branches, breathing pine needles, and gain your log again. If you strike your head or break your leg ... ” she paused dramatically, “ ... future explorers might find some interesting bones.”
    Sheila began to feel not at all hungry. She was used to walking and had often gone rambling, but these Canadian wilds were