p on his shoulder, her favourite place.

"And this is my Nurse Julian," the child said with a laugh. "Isn't he a
big nurse?"

"He is big," Frank agreed, looking up at him. "I feel quite small beside
him. He was always a great deal taller than I was, and he has grown a
good bit since I saw him last. But he looks rather big for a nurse."

"He is not too big at all," Stephanie said earnestly. "He could never
have carried me so far if he had not been very big and strong. Could he,
papa?"

"No, Stephanie; though I think goodness of heart had as much to do with
it as strength of body. Your brother has, of course, told you, Mr.
Wyatt, how deep an obligation he has laid us under."

"He said that he had had the good fortune to find your little girl, and
that he took her along with him in the retreat; but he seemed to
consider that the service she did him when they fell among the Russian
peasants quite settled matters between them. Doubtless, they mutually
saved each other's lives."

"Mr. Wyatt," the count said gravely, "the one act was momentary and
without risk. The other was done at the cost of labour and sacrifice
daily and hourly for nearly a month. You have been through the campaign,
and know how frightful were the sufferings, how overwhelming the
exhaustion of the soldiers. You can judge, then, how terrible was the
addition to a soldier's labours to have to carry a child like that for
so long, when his own strength was hourly weakening, and when every
additional pound of weight told heavily upon him. The tears come into
the eyes of the countess and myself every time we think of it. It was an
act of self-devotion beyond words; altogether beyond the understanding
of those who know not how terrible were the sufferings endured on the
march."

"They were indeed terrible, Count," Frank said gravely. "It was agony
for me to witness them, and I cannot but share your wonder how my
brother supported the extra weight, even of your little daughter, and
came through it safely, while tens of thousands of men not so burdened
fell and died along the road."

Julian did not understand what was being said, but he guessed by their
faces what they were speaking of.

"I suppose you are saying that it was hard work carrying the child," he
broke in in English; "but I can tell you that I believe it aided me to
get through. It gave me something to think of besides the snow, the
distance, and the Russians. She was always cheerful and brig