ested in now?" asked a deep bass voice from
the doorway, and Peace whirled about to confront young Dr. Shumway just
entering the room.

"His name is Benny, and he b'longs to the little author lady upstairs
who got burned 'most to death trying to put out the lamp which he tipped
over. His mother is dead, and the little author lady has to take care of
him and her own mother. I plumb forgot to ask what her name is, but I
'member now that she called her nurse Miss Piercing."

"Oh!" Dr. Shumway seemed more enlightened with that scrap of information
than with all the rest of the story, and he stood stroking his chin
thoughtfully, as he gazed absently at Gail seated by the window.

"Do you know her?" asked the small patient when he made no further
comment.

"I know whom you mean," he answered slowly. "But she is not my patient.
Dr. Rosencrans has that case. Where did _you_ find out about her?"

Peace again recounted the history of her recent adventure, and the story
lost nothing in its telling, for the child was profoundly impressed, and
she had the knack of making her listeners feel with her.

"I recall now," he said, turning to Gail when the tale was ended, "there
was some talk of amputating the hands at first,--they were so
dreadfully burned,--but the little lady would not permit it. She has
suffered tortures with them, but I understand that they are healing
nicely now, though they will probably always be crippled, and many
months must elapse before she can use them again. She is a game little
woman, but very close-mouthed,--almost morose. She seemed simply
overwhelmed by her catastrophe and none of the staff could get anything
out of her." He glanced significantly down at Peace, but she was
apparently unconscious of what she had accomplished, and the
conversation turned to other channels.

There was a very homesick little girl in one of the rooms across the
hallway, who had done nothing but cry since the ambulance had brought
her to the hospital, and the doctor wanted Peace to make her a little
visit. So for the next few days the brown-haired elf was so absorbed in
this new task of cheering unhappy Gertrude that she had little time to
think of the author lady on the floor above; and Gail was not prepared
for the tragic face that greeted her when she made her usual call at
Peace's room one day about a week later.

"Why, what has happened?" demanded the older sister, glancing about her
in alarm.

"Miss Wayne's gon