But her revolt was to be for herself too. On the day after her failure to
keep her appointment with Wilson she had her half-holiday. No word had
come from him, and when, after a restless night, she went to her new
station in the operating-room, it was to learn that he had been called out
of the city in consultation and would not operate that day. O'Hara would
take advantage of the free afternoon to run in some odds and ends of cases.
The operating-room made gauze that morning, and small packets of tampons:
absorbent cotton covered with sterilized gauze, and fastened
together--twelve, by careful count, in each bundle.
Miss Grange, who had been kind to Sidney in her probation months, taught
her the method.
"Used instead of sponges," she explained. "If you noticed yesterday, they
were counted before and after each operation. One of these missing is worse
than a bank clerk out a dollar at the end of the day. There's no closing
up until it's found!"
Sidney eyed the small packet before her anxiously.
"What a hideous responsibility!" she said.
From that time on she handled the small gauze sponges almost reverently.
The operating-room--all glass, white enamel, and shining
nickel-plate--first frightened, then thrilled her. It was as if, having
loved a great actor, she now trod the enchanted boards on which he achieved
his triumphs. She was glad that it was her afternoon off, and that she
would not see some lesser star--O'Hara, to wit--usurping his place.
But Max had not sent her any word. That hurt. He must have known that she
had been delayed.
The operating-room was a hive of industry, and tongues kept pace with
fingers. The hospital was a world, like the Street. The nurses had come
from many places, and, like cloistered nuns, seemed to have left the other
world behind. A new President of the country was less real than a new
interne. The country might wash its soiled linen in public; what was that
compared with enough sheets and towels for the wards? Big buildings were
going up in the city. Ah! but the hospital took cognizance of that,
gathering as it did a toll from each new story added. What news of the
world came in through the great doors was translated at once into hospital
terms. What the city forgot the hospital remembered. It took up life
where the town left it at its gates, and carried it on or saw it ended, as
the case might be. So these young women knew the ending of many stories,
the beginning of some; but of none did they know both the first and last,
the beginning and the end.