"May I--see him?" pleaded Miss Winslow, as Dr. Mead placed a chair
for her.

I wondered what he would have done if there had been some good
reason why he should resist the pleading of her deep eyes.

"Why--er--for a minute--yes," he answered. "Later, soon, he may
see visitors longer, but just now I think for a few hours the less
he is disturbed the better."

The doctor excused himself for a moment to look at his patient and
prepare him for the visit. Meanwhile Miss Winslow waited in the
reception room downstairs, still very pale and nervous.

Warrington was in much less pain now than he had been when we left
and Dr. Mead decided that, since the nurse had made him so much
more comfortable, no further drug was necessary. In fact as his
natural vitality due to his athletic habits and clean living
asserted itself, it seemed as if his injuries which at first had
looked so serious were not likely to prove as bad as the doctor
had anticipated.

Still, he was badly enough as it was. The new nurse smoothed out
his pillows and deftly tried to conceal as much as she could that
would suggest how badly he was injured and at last Violet Winslow
was allowed to enter the room where the poor boy lay.

Miss Winslow never for a moment let her wonderful self-control
fail her. Quickly and noiselessly, like a ministering angel, she
seemed to float rather than walk over the space from the door to