't seem touched in
the head?"

"Oh no," said the nurse; "it isn't that. She's the most sensible,
patient child we have in the ward. But it's pitiful to see her when she
thinks no one is listening. Nothing comforts her but to hear Big Ben
strike. She always cheers up at that, and murmurs something below her
breath which no one can catch."

"Well, nurse," said the doctor, "the very best thing would be to relieve
her mind--to get her to tell you who her people are, and to confide any
secret which troubles her to you."

"I will try," said the nurse.

She went upstairs after her interview with the doctor, and bending over
Sue, took her hot hand and said gently:

"I wish, little Cinderella, you would tell me something about yourself."

"There's naught to tell," said Sue.

"But--you'll forgive me--I am sure there is."

"Ef you was to ask me for ever, I wouldn't tell then," said Sue.

"Ah! I guessed--there is something."

"Yes--some'ut--but I can't bear it--the Woice in the air is so
beautiful."

"What voice?" asked the nurse, who feared that her little patient would
suddenly become delirious.

"It's Big Ben hisself is talkin' to me and to my darling, darling little
brother."

"Oh! you have a little brother, Cinderella?"

"Yus, a cripple. But don't ask me no more. The Woice gives me strength,
and I won't niver, niver tell."

"What does Big Ben say? I don't understand."

"No," said Sue; "and p'r'aps ye're not wanted to understand. It's for me
and for him, poor darling, that Woice is a real comfort."

The nurse left her little charge a few minutes afterwards. But before
she went off duty she spoke to the night nurse, and confessed that she
was anxious about the child, who ought to be recovering, and certainly
would but for this great weight of trouble on her mind.

All these things, which seemed in themselves unimportant, bore directly
on immediate events; for when Connie and Harris arrived at St. Thomas's
Hospital and made inquiries with regard to a little, freckled girl, with
an honest face and sturdy figure, the hall porter went to communicate
with one of the nurses, and the nurse he communicated with turned out to
be the night nurse in the very ward where Sue was lying--so suffering,
so ill and sorely tried.

Now, the nurse, instead of sending word that this was not the hour for
visiting patients, took the trouble to go downstairs herself and to
interview Connie and her father. Connie gave a faithful