ung at her
belt, bathed the wound, and tenderly laid on lint and balm. Sophia was
one of the best and most impartial of nurses; but it must be confessed
that her fingers passed more gently over that swollen arm; that her eyes
had a more pitiful look upon that hurt; that she lingered longer about
the details of bathing, anointing and bandaging that wound than she had
done in any other case. Do you blame her?

And Sergeant True was a model patient. Indeed he seemed quite to enjoy
his wound, or at least the treatment of it. Agatha, after a few kind
inquiries, had busied herself in giving instructions to the ward nurses
and watchers. Faith and Grace had withdrawn to their own tent.

"I am glad you came to me, True," said Sophia as the last stitch was
taken in the bands, and the sleeve was being gently fastened to its
place.

"Didn't I wait, just to make sure of that?" answered the Sergeant. "Why,
it is almost worth while to get a scratch like this for the pleasure of
having you doctor it with those canny fingers of yours. Many thanks!"

"But I don't care to practice my art on you, remember! Good bye!"

The words were spoken in the gangway as the handsome Sergeant passed
out, and--though it is by no means certain,--something very like the
sound of a kiss followed close upon them.

"Good bye!"

Ah, how many times the words are uttered on the border of shadows that
shall pall loving hearts. It is well that good-byes can be said in happy
ignorance of the morrow.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote Y: Appendix, Note A.]

CHAPTER IX.

NIGHT WATCHES.

The four Brownie maidens were once more together in their own quarters.
There was little said for a long time. The meeting between Sophia and
her lover had awakened tender and anxious thoughts in the hearts of all.
Agatha was following in imagination the agile form of Lieutenant
MacWhirlie, as he went the grand rounds of his pickets. The thoughts of
Faith were with Adjutant Blythe who, somewhere in camp or field, served
at the Captain's side, his faithful squire and counsellor. Grace's
musings were of the gallant and stalwart Ensign of the Corps, Sergeant
Lawe.

It would be too much to say that the Nurses had no anxiety about the
safety of their lovers. But then, they had been bred in the midst of
war's alarms. They knew that their fathers, kindred, and friends were
brave, experienced, skillful, and devoted to one another. They had
learned to regard war risks as matter