bed and sleep.'
She was wheeled to Casualty then, and lay quietly while he bent over her, peering into her eyes, putting a dressing on her head. She was drowsy now, but his quiet voice mingling with Sister's brisk tone was soothing. She really didn't care what happened next.
When he lifted her into the car once more, she said, 'Not here…' But since the professor took no notice of her she closed her eyes again. She had been given a pill to swallow in Casualty; her headache was almost bearable and she felt nicely sleepy.
Beaker was waiting when the professor reached his house, carried Emmy indoors and asked, 'You got Mrs Burge to come round? I had no time to give you details. If I carry Miss Foster upstairs perhaps she will help her to bed.'
'She's upstairs waiting, sir. What a to-do. The poor young lady-knocked out, was she?'
'Yes. I'll tell you presently, Beaker. I could do with a drink, and I expect you could, too. Did Mrs Burge make any objections?'
'Not her! I fetched her like you told me to, and she'll stay as long as she's wanted.'
The professor was going upstairs with Emmy, fast asleep now, in his arms. 'Splendid.'
Mrs Burge met him on the small landing. 'In the small guest room, sir. Just you lay her down on the bed and I'll make her comfortable.'
She was a tall, bony woman with hair screwed into an old-fashioned bun and a sharp nose. A widow, she had been coming each day to help Beaker for some time now, having let it be known from the outset that through no fault of her own she had fallen on hard times and needed to earn her living.
Beaker got on well with her, and she had developed an admiration for the professor, so that being routed out of her bed in the early hours of the morning was something she bore with equanimity. She said now, 'Just you leave the young lady to me, sir, and go and have a nap-you'll be dead on your feet and a day's work ahead of you.'
The professor said, 'Yes, Mrs Burge,' in a meek voice, merely adding that he would be up presently just to make sure that Emmy's pulse was steady and that she slept still. 'I know I leave her in good hands,' he told Mrs Burge, and she bridled with pleasure.
For all her somewhat forbidding appearance she was a kind-hearted woman. She tucked Emmy, still sleeping, into bed, dimmed the bedside light and sat down in the comfortable armchair, keeping faithful watch.
'She's not moved,' she told the professor presently. 'Sleeping like a baby.'
He bent over the bed, took Emmy's pulse and felt her head.
'I'll leave these pills for her to take, Mrs Burge. See that she has plenty to drink, and if she wants to eat, so much the better. A couple of days in bed and she'll be quite herself. There's only the mildest of concussions, and the cut will heal quickly.
'I'm going to the hospital in an hour or so and shall be there all day. Ring me if you're worried. Beaker will give you all the assistance you require, and once Ermentrude is awake there is no reason why you shouldn't leave her from time to time. I'll be back presently when I've had breakfast so that you can have yours with Beaker.'
He went away to shower and dress and eat his breakfast and then returned, and Mrs Burge went downstairs to where Beaker was waiting with eggs and bacon.
Emmy hadn't stirred; the professor sat down in a chair, watching her. She suited the room, he decided-quite a small room, but charming with its white furniture, its walls covered with a delicate paper of pale pink roses and soft green leaves. The curtains were white, and the bedspread matched the wallpaper exactly. It was a room he had planned with the help of his younger sister, whose small daughter slept in it when they visited him.
'Though once you're married, Ruerd,' she had told him laughingly, 'you'll need it for your own daughter.'
Emmy, with her hair all over the pillow, looked very young and not at all plain, he decided. When Mrs Burge came back he said a word or two to her, bent over the bed once more and stopped himself just in time from kissing Emmy.
It was late in the morning when Emmy woke, to stare up into Mrs Burge's face. She was on the point of asking 'Where am I?' and remembered that only heroines in books said that. Instead she said, 'I feel perfectly all right; I should like to get up.'
'Not just yet, love. I'm going to bring you a nice little pot of tea and something tasty to eat. You're to sit up a bit if you feel like it. I'll put another pillow behind you. There…'
'I don't remember very clearly,' began Emmy. 'I was taken to the hospital and I went to sleep.'
'Why, you're snug and safe here in Professor ter Mennolt's house, dearie, and me and Beaker are keeping an eye on you. He's gone to the hospital, but he'll be home this evening.'
Emmy sat up too suddenly and winced. 'I can't stay here. There's no one at the house-the estate agent won't know-someone might want to buy it…'
'Leave everything to the professor, ducks. You may be sure he'll have thought of what's to be done.'
Mrs Burge went away and came back presently with a tray daintily laid with fine china-a teapot, cup and saucer, milk and sugar. 'Drink this, there's a good girl,' she said. 'Beaker's getting you a nice little lunch and then you must have another nap.'
'I'm quite able to get up,' said Emmy, to Mrs Burge's departing back.
'You'll stay just where you are until I say you may get out of bed,' said the professor from the door. 'Feeling better?'
'Yes, thank you. I'm sorry I've given you all so much trouble. Couldn't I have stayed in hospital and then gone home?'
'No,' said the professor. 'You will stay here today and tomorrow, and then we will decide what is to be done. I have phoned the estate agent. He has a set of keys for your house and will deal with anyone who wishes to view it. The police will come some time this afternoon to ask you a few questions if you feel up to it.'
'You're very kind, sir, and I'm grateful. I'll be quite well by tomorrow, I can go…'
'Where?' He was leaning over the foot of the bed, watching her.
She took a sip of tea. 'I'm sure Mrs Grimes would put me up.'
'Mrs Grimes-the lady with the powerful voice? Don't talk nonsense, Ermentrude.' He glanced up as Mrs Burge came in with a tray. 'Here is your lunch; eat all of it and drink all the lemonade in that jug. I'll be back this evening.'
He went away and presently out of the house, for he had a clinic that early afternoon. He had missed lunch in order to see Ermentrude, and had only time to swallow a cup of coffee before his first patient arrived.
Emmy ate her lunch under Mrs Burge's watchful eye and, rather to her surprise, went to sleep again to wake and find another tray of tea, and Mrs Burge shaking out a gossamer-fine nightie.
'If you feel up to it, I'm to help you have a bath, love. You're to borrow one of the professor's sister's nighties. You'll feel a whole lot better.'
'Would someone be able to fetch my clothes so that I can go home tomorrow?' asked Emmy.
'Beaker will run me over this evening. You just tell me what you want and I'll pack it up for you. Professor ter Mennolt's got the keys.'
'Oh, thank you. You're very kind. Were you here when I came last night?'
'Yes-Beaker fetched me-three o'clock in the morning…'
'You must be so tired. I'm quite all right, Mrs Burge. Can't you go home and have a good sleep?'
'Bless you, ducks, I'm as right as a trivet; don't you worry your head about me. Now, how about a bath?'
Getting carefully out of bed, Emmy discovered that she still had a headache and for the moment wished very much to crawl back between the sheets. But the thought of being seen in her present neglected state got her onto her feet and into the adjoining bathroom, and once in the warm, scented water with Mrs Burge sponging her gently she began to feel better.
'I suppose I can't wash my hair?'
'Lawks, no, love. I'll give it a bit of a comb, but I daren't go messing about with it until the professor says so.'
'It's only a small cut,' said Emmy, anxious to look her best.
'And a lump the size of an egg-that'll take a day or two. A proper crack on the head and no mistake. Lucky that
