Jordan King inwardly chuckled. "I wonder if it's going to be a case of
two red heads," he said to himself. "I'll bet on R.P."

The nurse put her arm through Miss Linton's. "Come," she said gently.
"You ought not to be standing."

The girl turned to King, and put out her small hand in its mended glove.
He grasped it and dared to give it a strong pressure, and to say in a
low tone: "It'll be all right, you know. Keep a stiff upper lip. We're
not going to forget you." He very nearly said "I."

"Good-bye," she said. "I shall not forget how kind you've been."

Then she was gone through the big door, the tall nurse beside her
supporting steps which seemed suddenly to falter, and King was staring
after her, feeling his heart contract with sympathy.

* * * * *

Four hours later Anne Linton opened her eyes, after an interval of
unconsciousness which had seemed to the nurse who looked in now and then
less like a sleep than a stupor, to find a pair of broad shoulders
within her immediate horizon, and to feel the same lightly firm pressure
on her wrist that she had felt before that afternoon. She looked up
slowly into Burns's eyes.

"Not so bad, is it?" said his low and reassuring voice. "Bed more
comfortable than doctor's office chairs? Won't mind if you don't ring
any door bells to-morrow? Just let everything go and don't worry--and