There was a small room close to the entrance of the ward and I expected Charles to be there. As I approached I was aware of the sound of voices. I hesitated and then I heard a man speaking in deep resonant tones which made him very audible: “I want supplies … not a parcel of these Nightingale women. What good are they going to be?

None at all! Just a damned hindrance. We shall have them fainting all over the place . having the vapours . going into hysterics . demanding feather beds. I want supplies and they send me these foolish women. “

I was so enraged that I stood there stunned.

Then I heard Charles’s voice: “You are wrong. There are some very good girls among them. You will have to change your opinion.”

“I doubt it. Oh, I know some of these women like the idea of playing nurse. The reality will be quite another matter. You know what’s wrong. The Army is being decimated. Not by the Russians but by disease and neglect. Because there is nothing here … nothing with which to cure them. Nothing, nothing … and they send us a parcel of Nightingales. Shortly we shall be getting the wounded in from Balaclava and what have we got? Medicines? Dressings? No! A gaggle of useless women.”

I acted on impulse. I opened the door and went in. My eyes were blazing, my cheeks scarlet.

“Anna!” cried Charles.

“I overheard,” I said.

I was looking straight at him and I knew at once who he was. He was tall rather leaner than I had imagined; his hair was black; his eyes were such a dark brown that they looked black also; they were deeply set and luminous. His high cheeks gave a lean look to his face; his nose was long and straight; his mouth was curved into a smile which I think meant he was amused. His appearance had not disappointed me. He was almost exactly as I had imagined him.

“Ah,” he said.

“A Nightingale herself. Well, they do say that listeners never hear any good of themselves.”

“This is Dr. Adair, Anna,” said Charles.

“Adair, Miss Pleydell.”

He bowed almost ironically.

I said: “I have read some of your books.”

“How gracious of you to mention it.”

He was waiting for eulogies and got a cool silence.

Tm. sorry you have such a poor opinion of us,” I said.

“I do not think we are going to be a hindrance.”

“Miss Pleydell was at Kaiserwald,” said Charles.

“I believe she made quite an impression there. They thought she was an excellent nurse. Miss Marlington was with her. I am sure you will change your opinion . at least of these two. “

I was trembling. Here he was standing before me. In my imagination I had put horns on his head and given him cloven feet. I pictured him in Aubrey’s Temple of Sin. I was trying to calm myself, but my emotion was overwhelming me. After all, this meeting was what I had been working for; it was the thought of revenge which had sustained me during my months of mourning. And here I was. I had tracked down my quarry. Who would have believed it would be in a hospital in Scutari?

I realized at once that he was formidable.

I heard Henrietta’s voice.

“Anna, are you there? Is Charles there?”

She came into the room.

I said: “Henrietta, this is Dr. Adair.”

“Oh!” Her eyes were wide and for a moment I was afraid she would say something impetuously.

“This is Miss Marlington who was with Miss Pleydell in Kaiserwald,” said Charles.

He bowed coolly.

“How do you do?” said Henrietta, the colour coming into her cheeks and her eyes dancing with excitement.

“Dr. Adair has just been expressing his contempt for us,” I said.

“He thinks we are going to have vapours and demand feather beds.”

“Any bed would be preferable to our flea-ridden divans,” said Henrietta.

“I should not be particular about the feathers.”

“I think you will find more to complain of than your divans,” said Dr. Adair.

“And think it is brave of them to come out here,” said Charles.

“I have the utmost admiration for them all. “

“Let us hope that everyone will share your feelings.” And with a rather imperious movement of the head, Dr. Adair indicated that the meeting was over.

Charles said: “I must get on, too. I hope all is well with you.”

“As well as can be expected,” replied Henrietta.

Dr. Adair gave us a nod and was gone.

“So that is Dr. Adair,” said Henrietta.

“You mustn’t take to heart what he said, Anna,” Charles told me.

“What did he say exactly?” asked Henrietta.

“That we were a feckless, useless lot of women a parcel he called us and we’re going to be an encumbrance rather than a help.”

“He was just expressing his fury about not having the supplies he needs. He is very angry about that. We all are.”

“He wasn’t talking about supplies, but us,” I insisted.

“He has made up his mind about us before he knows us. He is arrogant, conceited, impossible. I do not think I am going to like your Dr. Adair.”

“Why do you call him mine?” asked Charles.

“Because I can see you think he is something of a hero.”

“He works very hard here.”

“And so do you. So do we all.”

“There is something special about Dr. Adair.”

“Yes. An aura of self-satisfaction.

“I am the great man. Whatever I do is wonderful!”

“How vehement you are, Anna. He has upset you with those careless remarks.”

“Not only the remarks,” I said tersely.

I wanted to get away. I was beginning to show my feelings, and that was not wise. My hatred for this man was too strong for me to hide it; the meeting although I had expected it was in a way too sudden.

“We must go,” I said to Henrietta.

“I’ll see you later,” said Charles.

“Well,” said Henrietta when we were alone, ‘so that is the man.

Impressive, isn’t he? “

“He is just as I imagined him to be. Now that I’ve seen him I hate him more than ever … if that is possible.”

“H’m,” said Henrietta.

“I did think he was rather fascinating.”

I looked at her impatiently and she laughed at me.

“Do you know,” she said, “I think this is all going to be worth while just to meet him.”

All thought of anything else was wiped from my mind on that terrible day when they brought in the wounded from the battle of Balaclava to Scutari. The suffering of those men was beyond description. There was no way of bringing them to the hospital except by carrying the stretchers up the incline to the plateau and it was heartrending to watch those poor wounded men groaning in agony as the Turkish bearers brought them clumsily up the slope.

We had not enough beds for them all and many had to lie on the floor.

There was a pathetic dearth of blankets and not enough bandages. But what we lacked chiefly was medical supplies.

The doctors were in despair. How were they going to deal with so many casualties? The terrible truth was that many who could have been saved had we been properly equipped were going to die. Miss Nightingale decided that ten of us should be sent to the General Hospital, which was really an extension of the Barrack; the remainder of our party was to stay at the Barrack. I was one of those chosen to go to the General with Henrietta, and we were delighted that Eliza and Ethel were with us. It had been noticed that we got on well together and it was probably thought a good plan to mix the two sides the ladies, as they said, and the others, between whom a certain hostility had been noticed.

My first thought was that we were going to work where he was, and I did not know whether to be glad or sorry. I wanted to know more about him, of course; but on the other hand I was sure that I should be in conflict with him. He had already shown me that he despised us. That was not a very good relationship between doctor and nurse.

During those terrible days we were too busy to think of anything but tending the sick. The suffering I saw so disturbed me that I tried to purge my mind of it and I did succeed in some measure in eliminating it from my thoughts. But it came back to me in odd moments and filled me with melancholy and I knew in my heart that it was something one could never forget. Looking back, there is a blurred picture of blood and horror sights I never thought to witness and fervently hoped I never would again. Never could the horrors of war have been brought home more clearly than they were in that hospital in Scutari; and the stupidity and callousness of the men who planned it for others to perform filled me with an indignation which inspired me to carry out tasks which I should otherwise not have had the strength to do.

Days moved into night. I was there constantly without relief, hurrying from bed to bed. I took only a few hours’ sleep here and there and I saw pain and suffering which I should remember all my life. I was touched beyond belief by the hope in those poor, pain-crazed eyes of cruelly wounded men, and Miss Nightingale came quietly through the wards, holding her lamp high, pausing by the beds of those most afflicted, whispering a few words of encouragement, telling^ us what should be done. I had never thought to see such horror, to live through such terrible human suffering, and yet I was uplifted. I knew this was my mission and what I was born for. Moreover, I felt I was doing some good. I had the power to soothe and there were occasions when the touch of my hands on a fevered brow seemed to have a miraculous effect.

Henrietta did well. She lacked my strength and tired easily, but I noticed that her feminine presence brought solace to many. She was so pretty, like a flower among all that horror; nothing could rob her of her exquisite daintiness, not even exhaustion and our far from becoming uniforms. Ethel was gentle; she was too easily moved, but the patients saw this and loved her for it; as for Eliza, she had great strength and could lift a man with ease. So the four of us in our different ways did not give such a bad account of ourselves.