day--a wonderful day!"

Sister Anne looked at him curiously and, so, it seemed, a
little wistfully. She held out her hand.

"I must go back to my duties," she said. "Good-by."

"Not good-by," said Sam heartily, "only until Saturday--and
my name's Sam Ward and my address is the city room of the
REPUBLIC. What's your name?"

"Sister Anne," said the girl. "In the nursing order to which
I belong we have no last names."

"So," asked Sam, "I'll call you Sister Anne?"

"No; just Sister," said the girl.

"Sister!" repeated Sam, "Sister!" He breathed the word rather
than spoke it; and the way he said it and the way he looked
when he said it made it carry almost the touch of a caress.
It was as if he had said "Sweetheart! or "Beloved!" "I'll not
forget," said Sam.

Sister Anne gave an impatient, annoyed laugh.

"Nor I," she said.

Sam returned to New York in the smoking-car, puffing
feverishly at his cigar and glaring dreamily at the smoke. He