In nothing have hospitals improved more of late years than in their nursing arrangements. This seems coincident with the High Church movement which has given the sick poor the inestimable boon of being nursed by gentlewomen who have adopted the noble profession of nursing from the love of God and their neighbour—ousting the Gamp and Harris sisterhood to the great advantage of their patients. Previous to the reform of this branch of charity, great scandals were always arising from the ignorance, incompetence, indolence, and drunkenness of the women employed to attend upon the sick. Very often, too, the poor invalids were robbed by these persons; and when their little possessions were not actually filched, it was necessary to bribe their attendants to do their duty, or to omit it, as the case might be. Many blots on the management of St. Bernard’s were traced to this source by the governing body; and when Miss Rackworth, the matron, died, it was determined to thoroughly reorganize the nursing staff on the new system, which had been proved successful in other hospitals.

The first thing which the new matron did after her installation was to make a clearance of the Mrs. Gamp order of nurse. And it was time! The age has outgrown “Sairey” and her set. The old hussies made it their business to “keep in” with the students, as they could help them in many ways, but the patients who did not “tip” them got scant courtesy. The newer order of skilled and educated nurses kept the students within due bounds; and, feeling that their first duty was to the patients, never, if they could prevent it, permitted their interests to be sacrificed to medical education. Podger’s days were numbered when Miss Kemp took up the reins of government.

Podger had of late presumed to send away several minor cases of casualty, with wet bandages of her own application, when she was in her cups; and the matron demanded her dismissal. It was a sad day for poor Podger when she turned her back on the hospital she loved. She had saved a little money, not so much as she ought, but still something for a rainy day. So she took a small house in Chillingworth Street, near Seven Dials, and set up in the “ointment” line. Filling her parlour window with a few gross of willow boxes, such as doctors use for their stuff, she announced, “Mrs. Podger’s Old Nurses’ Salve for Bad Legs, Boils, etc.,” and published some remarkable cases, which soon brought a little grist to her mill. But she had also furnished apartments to let, and these were taken by a middle-aged lady in the “medium” line of business—Mrs. Sabina Allen she was called. She was of more than middle stature, with jet-black hair, good features, and a general cheap tragedy-queen aspect. She converted Podger in a month, and with the assistance of her little stone jar of “Old Tom,” made her see the ghosts of her deceased relatives floating about the house in the “most permiscuous manner.” Podger was no sooner a disciple of advanced spiritualism, than she entered into partnership with her lodger, and inserted advertisements in The Medium Light and Daybreak, announcing that public sÉances were held at 15 Chillingworth Street, every Sunday evening, at eight o’clock.

The first Sunday, some seventeen persons attended, and the collection was a great success, as it amounted to no less a sum than eight shillings and sixpence. Dreams of wealth began to float through the brains of the sibyls. Podger did not admit all comers; they had to pass a “preliminary” in the passage before they went upstairs. Podger was the examiner. When the bell rang, she answered it. The applicant would request admission to the sÉance.

“Are you a spiritualist?”

“Yes.”

“What journal do you read?”

“Daybreak.”

“Do you know any of our friends?”

“Yes; a Mr. Lapworth and a Miss Clegg who attend here.”

“All right, you can come up.”

Then you were led by Podger into a first-floor front room, very frowsy, dark, and stuffy, in which the chairs were arranged in a semi-circle, facing a big chintz-covered sofa. There was a cabinet or screen in front of a cupboard on the left of the fireplace, covered with black cloth, which material also closely draped the windows, and excluded the light from the street lamps and the public-house opposite. The room was already nearly filled, and, in a few minutes, the medium entered, and took her seat on the sofa, with Podger on her left, by the cabinet. When she had seated herself, you saw that the long greasy mark on the wall-paper behind the couch was caused by the contact of the medium’s head as she leaned back fanning herself, and looking pale and weary. The company, on the occasion we describe, consisted of eleven women, more or less young, evidently work-women, and six men. Eight o’clock having struck, Podger put out the gas, and left the room in total darkness, and then struck up a hymn,—

which was very well sung by the little congregation. By the time the hymn was finished, the medium had begun to breathe heavily, and occasionally draw deep sighs. When all was silent she began to speak in a queer tone, and Podger announced that it was the spirit of an ancient Egyptian who had entered into the medium temporarily, and who was about to describe what he saw round the heads of the visitors, amongst whom to-night was Janet Spriggs, niece of Mrs. Podger. She was Mrs. Crowe’s maid, and had recently made the acquaintance of Mr. Mole, who had frequent occasion to visit the house on business connected with the Laboratory. The ancient Egyptian declared he saw a vision of a field of waving corn behind Janet’s head, which her aunt interpreted to mean coming prosperity of extraordinary extent; he also saw her seated in a chariot, drawn by horses like those of Pharaoh, and waited upon by slaves of the desert (this was declared to mean she would ride in her own carriage, and have servants of her own); that he also saw Imhotep, the son of Ptah and Pakht, bringing one of his disciples to marry her (Mrs. Podger interpreted this to mean she should wed a young doctor); that an evil spirit was in the house where she lived who meant mischief, and indicated perhaps a speedy visit to the spirit world for a lady who abode there (this was not further explained, as Jenny seemed to know all about it).

As each visitor was permitted to ask any question he liked of the Egyptian gentleman, the fortune-telling business went briskly on till closing time, when everybody felt that they had had a very fair sixpennyworth, and went home to dream of the things in store for them.

“Spirit lights” had floated all about the room, accompanied by handbells, daubed with luminous paint, and agitated by unseen hands. The entertainment was altogether a very eerie affair, and no doubt contributed its quota towards manufacturing mental disorders for the neighbouring asylum.

It was very droll to see the old nurse in her new character. She had, in a few months, cast off most of her hospital peculiarities, and had picked up from the medium an ample vocabulary of spiritualist terms.

They worked together in harness very well. Podger was the jackal who provided the material for the medium to work upon; she got to know all the secrets of the folks who came to the sÉances, and by her wide acquaintance and powers of ferreting out all about people, kept Mrs. Allen well supplied with provender for the Egyptian and other familiar spirits who hovered about Chillingworth Street.

Mr. Mole never attended the sÉances, but he frequently saw the ex-nurse, and, by judicious hints, secured to himself the benefits of her niece’s co-operation.