near,
would be all the same to her in that strange land, so that she and
Willie might be able to help one another.

"And, oh! I wish the time were only come," said she.

Since this must be waited for, she would have liked well to ask kind
Doctor Thorne, who had called her "a born nurse," to let her come to
him, that she might be at his bidding, and live her life, and do some
good in the world. The first time that Doctor Fleming had come to see
her, after her long labour and care were over, it had been on her lips
to ask him to speak to the good London doctor for her. But that was at
the very first, and the fear that Doctor Fleming might wonder at her for
thinking of new plans, before the dead man was laid in his grave, had
kept her silent. After that she hesitated for other reasons. London
was faraway, and the journey was expensive, and it would only be for a
year at most, and possibly for less, as whenever her brother said he was
ready for her she must go. So there was nothing better for her to do
than just to return to her work in the infirmary, and wait with
patience.

"And surely that ought to be enough for me, after all I have come
through, just to stay there quietly and wait. I ought to ken by this
time--and I do ken--that no real ill can come upon me.

"Pain? Yes, and sorrow, and disappointment. But neither doubt, nor
fear, nor any real ill can harm me. I may be well content, since I am
sure of that. And I _am_ content, only--whiles, I am foolish and
forget."

She was not deceiving herself when she said she was content. But she
must have forgotten--being foolish--one night on which Doctor Fleming
came in to see her. For her cheeks were flushed, and there were traces
of tears upon them, as he could see clearly when the light was brought
in. She might have causes for anxiety or sorrow, of which he knew
nothing. But he would have liked to know what had brought the tears
to-night, because he, or rather Mr Rainy, had something to say to her,
and he at least was doubtful how she might receive it.

_Was_ he doubtful? Hardly that. But he was quite sure that what was to
be said, and all which might follow, would be a trouble to Allison, and
the saying of it might be put off, if she had any other trouble to bear.

"Are you rested?" said he. "Are you quite strong and well again?"

"Yes, I am quite well and strong."

"And cheerful? And hopeful?"

"Surely," said Allison, looking at him in surpri