erent from anything her fancy had
painted. The practical character of the work, the absence of all
sentiment, the real illness, the real burden of humanity, seemed to
press down upon her.

She had thought, a week ago, when Dorothy proposed that she should come
to St. Joseph's, of the delight of being in the same hospital with her
friend, but she now discovered that she was unlikely to see much of
Dorothy even though she lived under the same roof. Dorothy was Sister of
a ward, and that ward was not the one where Effie was to serve her
probationership. She had the comfort of a very small room to herself,
and was just closing her eyes in sleep, when the handle of the room door
was softly turned, and Dorothy, looking beautiful in her Sister's dress
of soft navy serge, came in.

"So here you are, you poor little thing," said Dorothy, bending over
Effie and kissing her. "I have just come in for one minute to say God
bless you. You have come, the ice is broken. You have a fine career
before you. Don't be discouraged by what you saw to-night."

"Oh, I am so lonely!" said Effie, with a quiver in her voice. "I was
sure when I came here that I should be in the ward with you, Dorothy."

"No, my dear, that was not possible," replied Dorothy. "Of course I
should have been very glad if it could have been arranged, but I had no
voice in the matter. As it cannot be, dearest, try to believe that this
is just the best thing that could have happened to you, to be flung at
once, as it were, on your own feet. You will thus gain experience
without having a crutch like me to lean upon. I know the first night is
very bad, but you will soon learn your duties and become intensely
interested in the life. You are with Sister Kate, are you not?"

"Yes," said Effie. "She scarcely spoke to me--I never felt so awkward in
my life, and I know that I was never half so clumsy."

"Of course," said Dorothy, with a smile. "Don't I know the feeling well?
It all passes over, my love, and far more quickly than you have the
least idea of. Remember you have got the power--those little hands are
capable, that head holds a steady and sensible brain. Why, Effie, you
have gone through far worse times than this without flinching. Surely,
surely you are not going to break down now?"

"Oh, I won't, I won't!" said Effie, with a sob; "but I felt lonely, very
lonely, and it was so very kind of you to come to see me."

"Of course I have come to see you--I am only too