dship for Nadine.

Dorothy wondered if Nadine would penetrate her disguise.

Nadine assumed her duties at once, and the first thing which she did was
to order the slim creature about, scarcely giving her a moment's rest.

Nadine had always heard that this was the way paid nurses invariably
did.

She took every opportunity to consult Doctor Kendal and waylay him for
long chats. Even Jessie noticed this, as ill as she was; and she
noticed, too, that the young doctor resented it; and Nadine herself was
not slow in perceiving his lack of interest in herself.

"How very interested you are in your pretty white-faced patient," Nadine
said, on the second day of her stay there. "I almost believe you have
fallen in love with Jessie Staples, and mean to bring her quickly back
to health, and--and marry her."

Kendal turned from her with a fierce imprecation, and muttering
something that sounded very like "the cursed jealousy of some women,"
abruptly quitted the room, slamming the door after him.

Then Nadine felt _sure_ that she had stumbled upon the terrible truth.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Whenever a jealous woman is looking for something with which to feed the
green-eyed monster, she usually finds it, or imagines she does, which
amounts to the same thing. It was so with Nadine.

No one mentioned to Nadine the fact that Jessie was betrothed to Jack
Garner. Even had she heard it, she would not have believed it. She would
have imagined that it was a falsehood made up for her benefit.

She could not endure the kindly looks he gave Jessie, nor endure to see
him bend over her, raise her from her pillow, and, while one strong arm
supported her, coax her to take her medicine.

Such sights as these were more terrible for Nadine to endure than the
pangs of death; and for hours afterward she would feel an almost
uncontrollable desire to strangle the sick girl.

In Nadine's heart there rose a mad wish that Jessie would die before
Harry Kendal became too fond of her.

While Jessie slept and she was not buried in the depths of a newspaper
to kill time, she would be brooding over this subject: If Jessie Staples
would only die!

One day, while in this morbid mood, her eyes fell upon a fatal paragraph
that riveted her attention with breathless interest.

It spoke of the death of a once noted court beauty who had been in her
time the toast of all Europe. Men had fought duels for her sake, and
courtiers thought it a great honor t