t to send four. Many
had been asked during that afternoon, but without success. The society
was at its wits' end. Then some one thought of Miss Douglas.

She was young, but she was also self-controlled and physically strong.
Her inexperience would not be awkwardness; she would obey with
intelligence and firmness the directions given her. Under the charge of
the two older women, she could go--if she would!

It would be but for a short time--two weeks only; at the end of that
period the society expected to relieve these first volunteers with
regularly engaged and paid nurses. The long vacation had begun; as
teacher, she would lose nothing; her expenses would be paid by the
society. She had seemed so interested; it would not be much more to go
for a few days in person; perhaps she would even be glad to go. All this
they told her eagerly, while she stood before them in silence. Then,
when at last their voices ceased, and they waited for answer, she said,
slowly, looking from one to the other: "I could go, if it were not for
one obstacle. I have music scholars, and I can not afford to lose them.
I am very poor."

"They will gladly wait until you return, Miss Douglas," said the
principal. "When it is known where you have gone, you will not only
retain all your old scholars, but gain many new ones. They will be proud
of their teacher."

"Yes, proud!" echoed the associate. Again Anne remained silent; she was
thinking. In her loneliness she was almost glad to go. Perhaps, by the
side of the suffering and the dying, she could learn to be ashamed of
being so down-hearted and miserable. It was but a short absence. "Yes, I
will go," she said, quietly. And then the three ladies kissed her, and
the associate, who was of a tearful habit, took out her handkerchief.
"It is so sweet, and so--so martial!" she sobbed.

The next morning they started. Early as it was, a little company had
gathered to see them off. The school-girls were there, half in grief,
half in pride, over what they were pleased to call the "heroism" of
their dear Miss Douglas. Mrs. Green, Anne's landlady, was there in her
Sunday bonnet, which was, however, but a poor one. These, with the
principal of the school and the other teachers, and the ladies belonging
to the Aid Society, made quite a snowy shower of white handkerchiefs as
the train moved out from the station, Anne's young face contrasting with
the strong features and coarse complexion of Mary Crane, the
pro