nspect
the progress of Robina's doll, and spent a happy and light-hearted
quarter of an hour with friendly Madame of the shop, deciding the color
of the lady's party coat, and of the ribbons in her minute underclothes,
and packing and repacking the trunk with enchanting fairy
foolishnesses. Again and again she smiled to herself, in bed at night,
going about her work in the long days, as she thought of the little
girl's rapture over the many and carefully planned details. For, with
all the presents showered on her, Robina's aunt knew that Robina had
never had anything as perfect as this exquisite Paris doll and her
trousseau.

The day came on which Evelyn was to make her final visit to "La
Marquise," as Madame called the doll, and the nurse was needed in the
hospital and could not go. But she telephoned Madame and made an
appointment for tomorrow.

"'La Marquise' finds herself quite ready for the voyage," Madame spoke
over the telephone. "She is all which there is of most lovely; Paris
itself has never seen a so ravishing doll. I say it. We wait anxiously
to greet Mademoiselle, I and La Marquise," Madame assured her. Evelyn,
laughing with sheer pleasure, made an engagement for the next day,
without fail, and went back to her work.

There was a badly wounded _poilu_ in her ward, whom the girl had come to
know well. He was young, perhaps twenty-seven, and his warm brown eyes
were full of a quality of gentleness which endeared him to everyone who
came near him. He was very grateful, very uncomplaining, a
simple-minded, honest, common, young peasant, with a charm uncommon. The
unending bright courage with which he made light of cruel pain, was
almost more than Evelyn, used as she was to brave men's pain, could
bear. He could not get well--the doctors said that--and it seemed that
he could not die.

"If Corporal Duplessis might die," Evelyn spoke to the surgeon.

He answered, considering: "I don't see what keeps him alive."

"I believe," said Evelyn, "there's something on his mind. He sighs
constantly. Broken-heartedly. I believe he can't die until his mind is
relieved."

"It may be that," agreed Dr. Norton. "You could help him if you could
get him to tell you." And moved on to the next shattered thing that had
been, so lately, a strong, buoyant boy.

Evelyn went back to Duplessis and bent over him and spoke cheerful
words; he smiled up at her with quick French responsiveness, and then
sighed the heavy, anxious sig