It was even doubtful whether the
proprieties would admit of her giving evidence; and at last, as a
compromise, her modesty only allowed her to do so in the form of
written answers to written questions. At length, the grand affair
was finished. The Commission's Report, embodying almost word for
word the suggestions of Miss Nightingale, was drawn up by Sidney
Herbert. Only one question remained to be answered--would
anything, after all, be done? Or would the Royal Commission, like
so many other Royal Commissions before and since, turn out to
have achieved nothing but the concoction of a very fat bluebook
on a very high shelf?
And so the last and the deadliest struggle with the Bison began.
Six months had been spent in coercing him into granting the
Commission effective powers; six more months were occupied by the
work of the Commission; and now yet another six were to pass in
extorting from him the means whereby the recommendations of the
Commission might be actually carried out. But, in the end, the
thing was done. Miss Nightingale seemed, indeed, during these
months, to be upon the very brink of death. Accompanied by the
faithful Aunt Mai, she moved from place to place--to Hampstead,
to Highgate, to Derbyshire, to Malvern--in what appeared to be a
last desperate effort to find health somewhere; but she carried
that with her which made health impossible.
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