as a chair. "I don't know anything
about nursing people. Honor just told me that I was going to do it
beautifully, that I wasn't really frightened or stupid at all; and
somehow, she has made it all come true. She's been ever so kind and
patient; and I'm not half so nervous now when I'm left alone all
night. She writes out every little thing I have to do, and sits up
herself in her own room. She's sitting there now, reading or writing,
so I can go to her any minute if I really want help. She knows it
comforts me to feel there's some one else awake; and she does her own
nights of nursing just the same. I often wonder how she stands it
all."

Desmond drew in his breath with a sharp sound. The infinitely much
that he owed to this girl, at every turn, threatened to become a
torment beyond endurance.

Evelyn caught the sound and misunderstood it.

"There now, I'm tiring you, talking too much. I'm sure you ought to be
having something or another, even though you are better."

She consulted her paper; and returning with the medicine-glass half
filled, held it to his lips, raising his head with one hand. But at
the first sip he jerked it back abruptly.

"Tastes queer. Are you sure it's the right stuff?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Better look and see."

She took up the bottle, and examined it close to the light. There was
an ominous silence.

"Well?" he asked in pure amusement.

"It--it was the--lotion for your eyes!"

The last words came out in a desperate rush, and there was tragedy in
her tone. But Desmond laughed as he had not laughed since his parting
with the Boy.

"Come on, then, and square the account by doctoring my eyes with the
medicine."

"Oh, Theo, don't! It isn't a joke!"

"It is, if I choose to take it so, you dear, foolish little woman!"

She handed him the refilled glass; then, to his surprise, collapsed
beside the bed and burst into tears.

"Ladybird, what nonsense!" he rebuked her gently, laying a hand on her
head.

"It's not nonsense. It's horrible to be useless and--idiotic, however
hard you try. It might easily have been--poison, and I might
have--killed you!"

"_Only_ it wasn't--_and_ you didn't!" he retorted, smiling. "You're
upset, and worn out from want of sleep; that's all."

She made a determined effort to swallow down her sobs, and knelt
upright with clasped hands.

"No, Theo, I'm not worn out; I'm simply stupid. And you're the kindest
man that ever lived. But I mustn't cry any