Sad Cypress (Hercule Poirot 22)

Dr. Lord and Elinor went upstairs. Nurse O’Brien was with the patient.

Laura Welman, breathing deeply and stertorously, lay as though in a stupor. Elinor stood looking down on her, shocked by the drawn, twisted face.

Suddenly Mrs. Welman’s right eyelid quivered and opened. A faint change came over her face as she recognized Elinor.

She tried to speak.

“Elinor…” The word would have been meaningless to anyone who had not guessed at what she wanted to say.

Elinor said quickly:

“I’m here, Aunt Laura. You’re worried about something? You want me to send for Mr. Seddon?”

Another of those hoarse raucous sounds. Elinor guessed at the meaning. She said:

“Mary Gerrard?”

Slowly the right hand moved shakily in assent.

A long burble of sound came from the sick woman’s lips. Dr. Lord and Elinor frowned helplessly. Again and again it came. Then Elinor got a word.

“Provision? You want to make provision for her in your will? You want her to have some money? I see, dear Aunt Laura. That will be quite simple. Mr. Seddon will come down tomorrow and everything shall be arranged exactly as you wish.”

The sufferer seemed relieved. The look of distress faded from that appealing eye. Elinor took her hand in hers and felt a feeble pressure from the fingers.

Mrs. Welman said with a great effort:

“You—all—you…”

Elinor said: “Yes, yes, leave it all to me. I will see that everything you want is done!”

She felt the pressure of the fingers again. Then it relaxed. The eyelids drooped and closed.

Dr. Lord laid a hand on Elinor’s arm and drew her gently away out of the room. Nurse O’Brien resumed her seat near the bed.

Outside on the landing Mary Gerrard was talking to Nurse Hopkins. She started forward.

“Oh, Dr. Lord, can I go in to her, please?”

He nodded.

“Keep quite quiet, though, and don’t disturb her.”

Mary went into the sickroom.

Dr. Lord said:

“Your train was late. You—” He stopped.

Elinor had turned her head to look after Mary. Suddenly she became aware of his abrupt silence. She turned her head and looked at him inquiringly. He was staring at her, a startled look in his face. The colour rose in Elinor’s cheeks.

She said hurriedly:

“I beg your pardon. What did you say?”

Peter Lord said slowly:

“What was I saying? I don’t remember. Miss Carlisle, you were splendid in there!” He spoke warmly. “Quick to understand, reassuring, everything you should have been.”