The girl felt fear and love rush up desperately to overwhelm her. She
choked them back, and said quite quietly: "I will. I promise. Only let
me help nurse him!"

Kirsteen nodded. And they sat down to wait.

That quarter of an hour was the longest of her life. To see him thus,
living, yet not living, with the spirit driven from him by a cruel blow,
perhaps never to come back! Curious, how things still got themselves
noticed when all her faculties were centred in gazing at his face. She
knew that it was raining again; heard the swish and drip, and smelled
the cool wet perfume through the scent of the eau de cologne that
she had spilled. She noted her aunt's arm, as it hovered, wetting the
bandage; the veins and rounded whiteness from under the loose blue
sleeve slipped up to the elbow. One of his feet lay close to her at the
bed's edge; she stole her hand beneath the sheet. That foot felt very
cold, and she grasped it tight. If only she could pass life into
him through her hot hand. She heard the ticking of her little
travelling-clock, and was conscious of flies wheeling close up beneath
the white ceiling, of how one by one they darted at each other, making
swift zigzags in the air. And something in her she had not yet known
came welling up, softening her eyes, her face, even the very pose of
her young body--the hidden passion of a motherliness, that yearned so
to 'kiss the place,' to make him well, to nurse and tend, restore and
comfort him. And with all her might she watched the movements of those
rounded arms under the blue sleeves--how firm and exact they were, how
soft and quiet and swift, bathing the dark head! Then from beneath the
bandage she caught sight suddenly of his eyes. And her heart turned
sick. Oh, they were not quite closed! As if he hadn't life enough to
close them! She bit into her lip to stop a cry. It was so terrible to
see them without light. Why did not that doctor come? Over and over and
over again within her the prayer turned: Let him live! Oh, let him live!

The blackbirds out in the orchard were tuning up for evening. It seemed
almost dreadful they should be able to sing like that. All the world was
going on just the same! If he died, the world would have no more light
for her than there was now in his poor eyes--and yet it would go on the
same! How was that possible? It was not possible, because she would die
too! She saw her aunt turn her head like a startled animal; some one was
coming up