better than I do.'

Yes, I knew the rest, for I had been with her ever since.

Though a resident of Washington, I was not 'to the manor born,' but a
'mudsill' from Vermont, and when the war broke out I applied to be
received into the hospitals, but was refused on account of want of
experience. Intent, notwithstanding, upon making my services necessary,
I passed part of every day in one or other of them. One day I noticed a
new comer. Her head was bent down as I approached her; but when I
passed, she looked up for a moment, and I had a glimpse of her face.
'That is the homeliest face I ever saw,' said I to myself. It will be a
perpetual annoyance to me. I am sorry she has come.' The next day I was
again in that hospital, and, standing near a door which opened into a
side room, I overheard a conversation going on between a surgeon and a
lady. It was not of a private nature, and I kept my place and listened
to it. I was charmed by the agreeable tones of the lady, her well-chosen
words, and the great good sense and tender kindness of her remarks. 'I
must know that woman,' said I, 'she will be a treasure if she is going
to stay here.' She came out, and I recognized the homely nurse of the
previous day. I was astonished, but my prejudice was entirely disarmed.
I soon made her acquaintance, and gradually established myself as her
assistant, until, at her request, I was allowed to take up my abode in
the building.

Her presence in the hospital was soon evident. The surgeons found with
surprise that her skill and knowledge were equal to every requirement,
that she shrank from no task, however fearfully repelling it might be,
and they quickly began to avail themselves of her womanly deftness. To
the soldiers she was a perpetual blessing. Every means which her
thoughtful experience could suggest she put in requisition to soothe
their pain or strengthen them to bear it. Nature, who never denies all
gifts to any of her children, had given her a good voice, not powerful,
but sweet and penetrating, and often, when all else failed, I have seen
her lull a patient to sleep with some favorite tune set to appropriate
words. Priceless indeed were her services, and priceless was the
recompense she received.

But for the humor that peeped out occasionally in Miss Sunderland, to an
ordinary observer her character--as she moved unambitiously through the
wards, doing always the right thing at the right time, unexpectant of
blame and regardl