IN A CARAVAN.
IN THE TRACK OF THE WANDERING JEW.
THROUGH THE GATE OF TEARS.
A PARIAH.
THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN.



SISTER



It does not matter where it was. I do not want other people--that
is to say, those who were around us--to recognize Sister or myself.
It is not likely that she will see this, and I am not sure that she
knows my name. Of course, some one may draw her attention to this
paper, and she may remember that the name affixed to it is that
which I signed at the foot of a document we made out together--
namely, a return of deaths. At the foot of this paper our names
stood one beneath the other--stand there still, perhaps, in some
forgotten bundle of papers at the War Office.

I only hope that she will not see this, for she might consider it a
breach of professional etiquette; and I attach great importance to
the opinion of this woman, whom I have only seen once in my whole
life. Moreover, on that occasion she was subordinate to me--more or
less in the position of a servant.

Suffice it to say, therefore, that it was war-time, and our trade
was what the commercial papers call brisk. A war better remembered