the sick-room she was transformed. Quiet, cool, steady, alert, she
knew what to do and how to do it. With a word to the others, her
coat and hat were off and she was standing by the bed, and again I
was humiliated that I knew how to do so little, was of so little
worth.

Between the doctor and herself was some talk. Directions were given
and statements made, and then the doctor came to the door where I was
standing. For a half-moment he looked me over, his near-sighted eyes
almost closing in their squint.

"I knew your father. A very unusual man." He held out his hand.
"You're like him, got his expression, and, I'm told, the same
disregard of what people think. That"--he jerked his thumb over his
shoulder--"is a side of life you've never seen before. It's a side
men make and women permit. Good morning." Before I could answer he
was gone.

Close to the cot Mrs. Mundy and Miss White were still standing. The
latter slipped her hand under the covering and drew out the hot-water
bag. "This has cooled," she said. "Where can I get hot water?"

Mrs. Mundy pointed to the bath-room, then turned, and together they
left the room. The girl on the cot was seemingly asleep.

As they went out the man, who was standing by the mantel, came toward
me. "I am David Guard," he said. "I have not thanked you for
letting me bring her in. Had there been anywhere else to take her, I
would not have brought her here. I met her at the other end of the
Square. We had been standing for some while, talking. There was no