ad found her nerves steadying down to
the task in hand; nevertheless, the past ten weeks, in return for
the increase of her poise, had taken something from her vitality.
Quickness of eye, firmness of hand, evenness of temper: all these
may be gifts of the gods. Their use is a purely human function, and
proportionately exhausting. The girl's one salvation lay in the fact
that her quick sympathy with her patients was for the most part
impersonal. Up to this time, Weldon had been her only patient whom
she had known outside the routine duties of her hospital life. In a
sense, it had been a relief to meet some one whom she knew to be of
her own world; in a sense, the case had worn upon her acutely. She
could watch with a greater degree of stolidity the sufferings of
other men.

Among her new charges, that day, only one had made any distinct
impression upon her overworked brain. That was a jovial young
fellow, handsome as Phoebus Apollo, in spite of a slashing scar
across one cheek. He had answered to her questions regarding his
wounded foot with an accent so like that of Weldon that
involuntarily she lingered beside him to add a word of cheery
consolation. His was her final case, that night. As she wearily
turned towards her own room, she made no effort to analyze her
exhaustion.

She found Ethel, still in her hat and jacket, sitting on the edge of
her own narrow cot.

"Cooee Dent!"

"Yes, dear." The girl's tone was nonchalant, even while the telltale
color came into her cheeks.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting you, of course."

"Visiting me! But, Cooee, I really don't know where I can put you."

With perfect composure, Ethel passed her hand over the surface of
the cot.

"Oh, I think this nutmeg-grater will carry two. Still, Alice, I must
say that your hospitality isn't exactly exuberant."

Alice dropped into a chair and wearily pushed her hair still farther
back from her forehead.

"But, Cooee--"

"Aren't you glad to see me?" Ethel demanded.

"Certainly. You are always a dear; but--I wish I had known you were
coming."

Ethel raised her brows, and a slight edge came into her voice.

"If you don't want me, Alice, I can go home in the morning."

Dimly aware that her cousin was fencing with an invisible adversary,
nevertheless Alice Mellen was too tired, that night, to range
herself upon the side of that adversary. As far as she was
concerned, Ethel had dropped upon her like a bolt from the blue. S