The hospital had formerly been a large hotel, and was divided into
many rooms, all crowded with sick. The wounded men who were not
gangrened were carefully kept apart from those who were. Some of these
were frightfully disfigured in the face or head, and presented a
ghastly appearance. In rooms filled with fever-patients old men and
mere boys lay helpless, struggling with various forms and stages of
disease, hoarsely raving, babbling sweetly of home, vainly calling
remembered names, or lying in the fatal stupor which precedes death.

Although many convalescents paced gloomily up and down the halls, or
lounged upon the spacious galleries, I noticed few male nurses.
Perhaps half a dozen women met us at the doors of different wards,
jauntily dressed, airily "showing off" their patients, and discoursing
of their condition and probable chances of life, in a manner utterly
revolting to me. I caught many a glance of disgust bent upon them by
the poor fellows who were thus treated as if they were stocks or
stones. These women were, while under the eye of the surgeon,
obsequious and eager to please, but I thought I saw the "lurking devil
in their eyes," and felt sure they meant mischief.

Dr. McAllister arrived that night. The next morning I was regularly
installed. But I could not help feeling that there was a reservation
of power and authority, a doubt of my capacity, due to my youthful
appearance. Very helpless and friendless I felt, as, escorted by the
"surgeon in charge," I once more made the rounds. He left me at the
door of one of the fever-wards. This I entered, and stood for a moment
looking upon the scene of suffering humanity, wondering how and where
to begin the work of alleviation. Suddenly a faint voice called
"Milly! _Oh_, Milly!" I turned to meet a pair of blue eyes regarding