to the wall.

By and by the nurse came in, and Susan left the room. She went
straight to the kitchen, and she did not so much as look toward
Keith's father whom she met in the hall. In the kitchen Susan caught
up a cloth and vigorously began to polish a brass faucet. The faucet
was already a marvel of brightness; but perhaps Susan could not see
that. One cannot always see clearly--through tears.

Keith was like this every day after that, when Susan came in to sit
with him--silent, listless, seemingly devoid of life. Yet the doctor
declared that physically the boy was practically well. And the nurse
was going at the end of the week.

On the last day of the nurse's stay, Susan accosted her in the hall
somewhat abruptly.

"Is it true that by an' by there could be an operator on that boy's
eyes?"

"Oper--er--oh, operation! Yes, there might be, if he could only get
strong enough to stand it. But it might not be successful, even then."

"But there's a chance?"

"Yes, there's a chance."

"I s'pose it--it would be mighty expulsive, though."

"Expulsive?" The young woman frowned slightly; then suddenly she