Read Cherry Ames 24 Companion Nurse for Free Online

plane fi ll up. Music played and the passengers, mostly Americans, a few English and Canadians, seemed festive. On Cherry’s left, an elderly man dozed beside the plane window. Across the aisle a brisk young American took business reports out of his briefcase; beyond him sat a reserved-looking middle-aged couple. Cherry 34 CHERRY
    AMES,
    COMPANION
    NURSE
    thought their nearest seatmates probably would not want much conversation, and that was just as well for her patient.
    Or was it? Martha Logan was watching everyone with alert, sparkling eyes. “Grand to be out in the world again,” she said to Cherry, “after being confi ned to a sickroom.” Martha pointed out the man who had helped them on the walkway. He sat four seats ahead, on the opposite aisle. “He’s keeping the stewardesses busy with his requests,” she remarked.
    An extremely pleasant-looking young man came in and stowed a string bag, fi lled with books, under the seat ahead of Martha Logan. He glanced at her inquisitively, then at Cherry in her nurse’s uniform.
    Cherry didn’t know him, but thought he might turn out to be a lively traveling companion. He was nice-looking in an unexceptional way—he was of medium height, brown-haired, and he wore glasses—and he had a friendly, breezy energetic air about him that Cherry liked.
    “Excuse me, is this yours?” he said, and handed Martha her scarf, which had fallen under his seat. He gave Cherry an admiring look and reluctantly sat down.
    Martha seemed amused; she noticed everything.
    Promptly at ten o’clock the jetliner took off, rising like a giant bird. After several minutes’ climbing into the brilliant blue sky, the plane leveled off. It fl ew out over the Atlantic, east toward the sun. Cherry unfastened her seat belt, and Mrs. Logan’s, and took her patient’s pulse. It was normal.

    FLIGHT TO LONDON
    35
    “How do you feel?” Cherry asked. Cherry knew that Martha must walk up and down the plane aisle at least once every hour, to avoid stiffness.
    “I feel wonderful,” Martha said. . . . “Well, yes, my arm aches.”
    Cherry reached for a pillow from the rack overhead, to prop under the aching arm. Instantly the breezy-looking young man in the seat ahead jumped up as Cherry stood up. “Let me help you,” he said. “I—uh—
    I’m the one who swapped seats with you at the airline’s request so you could sit together—so I’m sort of interested.” Cherry smiled at him and sat down.
    At eleven, after Martha had rested, Cherry took her for the fi rst slow, uncertain walk along the plane aisle.
    The plane rolled only very slightly. Her shaky patient managed to walk. A few passengers glanced up, and the young steward hurried to assist, but Cherry shook her head. As the injured woman and her nurse neared his seat, the important-looking little man rose and offered Martha Logan “a moment’s rest in my seat.” She smiled and declined.
    An hour later, at noon, when they attempted the walk again, the man rose and deferentially spoke to them.
    “I beg your pardon, madam, but I’ve long been a great admirer of your books. Aren’t you Martha Logan?
    I believe I recognize you from the photograph on the book jackets.”
    Martha colored with pleasure. “How very kind of you.”

    36 CHERRY
    AMES,
    COMPANION
    NURSE
    “Would it be an imposition if—it would mean so much to me to chat with you for a few minutes—
    unless,” the man glanced tactfully at Cherry, “your nurse feels it would tire you?”
    “Not at all,” Martha answered. “I’d be delighted to have some conversation.”
    After they resumed their seats, the portly little man came and stood in the aisle beside them. He presented Mrs. Logan with his card—his name was Archibald Hazard. Martha introduced him to Cherry, and he gave her a charming, if faintly condescending, smile.
    He was a New Yorker, an economist, on the staff of a magazine in that fi eld, he said briefl y. “But my private enthusiasm is art and art