ss Margaritty," she added, "nor you, Cap'n
Jack. There! I can't say much yet."

She turned away, and all were silent for a moment, as she wiped the
tears from her rugged face.

"You go straight home, I suppose, sir?" said Jim, addressing Don Miguel.

"Yes, yes!" cried the little gentleman. "I go to Pine del Rio with my
dear ward here. To see her safe on board a good vessel, bound for the
North; to say farewell to the joy of my old days, and put out the light
of my eyes--that is my one sad desire, Senor Montfort. After that--I am
old, I have but a short time left, and my prayers will require that."

"Well, then, it seems as if the first thing on all hands was to find a
steamer sailing for home," said Jim. "If Mrs. Annunzio will take charge
of you, Cousin Rita, I think that will be the best thing. Uncle John
will send some one to meet you in New York and take you to Fernley. How
does that suit you?"

Rita was silent. She had grown very pale. Delmonte looked at her
eagerly, but did not speak.

"What do you say, little cousin?" repeated Montfort. "You have a mind of
your own, and a pretty decided one, if I'm not mistaken. Let's hear it!"

Rita spoke slowly and with difficulty, her ready flow of speech lacking
for once.

"Cousin Jim--dear Don Miguel--you are both so kind, so good. You too,
Marm Prudence. I love the North. I love my dear uncle and cousin--ah,
how dearly!--but--I do not want to go to Fernley."

"Not want to go!" repeated the others.

"No! indeed, indeed, I cannot go. I have been thinking, Cousin Jim, a
great deal, while all these things have been happening; these wonderful,
terrible things. I--I ought to have learned a great deal; I hope I have
learned a little. I have talked enough about helping my country; too
much I have talked; now I want to do something. I am going to work in
one of the hospitals. Nurses are needed, I know, every day more of them.
I do not know enough--yet--to be a nurse, but I can be a helper. I am
very humble; I will do the meanest work, but--but that is what I mean to
do."

She ceased, and all the others, looking in her face, saw it bright and
lovely with earnest resolve. But Don Miguel cried out in expostulation.
It was impossible, he said. It could not be. She was too young, too
delicate, too--the proposition was monstrous. He appealed to Captain
Montfort to support him, to exercise his authority, to persuade this
dear child that the noble idea which filled her young and