or the pity and aid which
did not fail him; it was through her that he drew from One mightier than
all, the spiritual strength for his terrible bodily conflict. In a sense
Annie and he were both on their trial, they served their novitiate
together, and helped each other to bear and overcome. When the operation
was over he lay, with the sweat drops of agony which Annie was gently
wiping off, not gone from his forehead, but also with the reflection
still lingering on his white face of the courage and patience with which
he had been ready to meet death.

"You have behaved remarkably well, and shown no want of pluck, my lad,"
said the surgeon as a parting word of encouragement and cheer. "Lie
still and you'll be able to see your friends by and by. I believe you'll
do famously, and we'll see whether a substitute cannot be found for the
limb you have lost."

He turned to Annie who had done all, and more than all, that was
required of her, probably because she had entirely forgotten herself.
She was not even then sensible of a swift reaction, an overwhelming
tide of embarrassment. She continued more than half unconscious of the
number of eyes which, now that the operation was over, were fixed upon
her, marvelling, admiring, condemning, or ridiculing. For what act is
there, let it be ever so disinterested or self-sacrificing, against
which no voice will rise in condemnation or in mockery?

But it was not the operating surgeon who either condemned or scoffed at
Annie's conduct. He drew her aside, not speaking to her on the religious
side of the episode, which he did not conceive that he had the smallest
right or title to do, but addressing her on the purely medical aspect of
the incident, on which he considered that he was entitled, nay, even
bound to speak. His manner was a little blunt and brusque rather than
suave, like that of a man who had no time to waste in paying compliments
or making soft speeches, but it was thoroughly approving.

"You did quite right, nurse; I'm much obliged to you. That poor boy
wanted all the comfort he could get. If he had gone on and worked
himself into a frenzy before I had taken up the knife, I do not know
that I could have done my work, and certainly the probability of his
recovery would have been greatly lessened."

"I am glad," said Annie simply, with a little gasp of returning
consciousness. "It is good of you to say so, doctor," but it was
doubtful whether she knew what she was saying.