and keep
him comfortable. But Tom had thrown himself upon her. He "needed"
her--that had been his word. With her to help him he felt that he could
do anything. What a career for a girl! That would be living indeed.

She thought of his unanswered letter and climbed out of bed at once.
"Dear Tom," she wrote, and again the tears came into her eyes, "Thank
you so much for the lovely flowers. They are by my bed and I can enjoy
them all day long. It is awfully nice of you to ask me to the Boat Race
and I accept with pleasure. I don't think there will be any question
about my being able to make it. In two weeks I should be perfectly well
again.

"It will be lovely to see you and I can do so at any time now.

"As ever,
"NANCY."

The final draft of the letter was composed only after three preliminary
ones. Nancy found it extremely difficult to get just the right tone. She
couldn't put too much warmth into it, and yet it mustn't be too cold. So
she sat at her desk, copying and recopying, and only succeeded in
finishing it when Miss Albers returned.

"I've done it at last," she announced proudly, her cheeks aflame. Miss
Albers, fortunately one of the few surviving members of the Good Nurse
family, saw the situation immediately.

"Why, I see you have," she said. "Isn't that fine! Now I think you are
entitled to a nice nap." And when Tom arrived, post-haste upon receipt
of Nancy's note, he was met at the front door with the news of her
relapse.

XIV

When Tom reached the Whitman house on the day of the race, he found it
full. He had seen Nancy only once since her illness; and as her room had
then been filled with people, his call was not remarkable. He had not
failed to notice, nevertheless, that the colour came into her face as he
entered the room; and there had been other auspicious signs which had
had an exciting effect upon his pulse. This call had been made only two
days before the race, and it was then clear that Nancy could not go with
him. A Philadelphia cousin had, however, announced her arrival--a
particular friend of hers being in the Woodbridge boat--and would Tom
mind taking her? Uncle Bob Whitman had wonderful seats, being an
Overseer, but he wasn't going to be able to use them, and--of course Tom
would be only too happy to take her.

Nancy, pale and lovely, was serving tea, but she found time to thank him
again for his goodness about the Philadelphia cousin, and then she took
him over