succumbed to it. Her sudden breakdown had puzzled her companions.
It is true that she was new in the service; she had seen but little
of death and suffering; but, with all that, she was known to possess
remarkable strength of purpose and fortitude. That she should
collapse almost at the outset of her opportunities was the source
of wonder and no little contempt among her fellow workers. The
words of the strange girl in men's clothing opened the way to smart
surmises. It was not long before everyone in the command knew
that the "beautiful Red Cross nurse" was not wearing the garb of
the vocation for the sake of humanity alone--in fact, it was soon
understood that she did not care a straw for the rest of mankind
so long as Graydon Bansemer needed her ministrations.

Ignoring the principles of the cause she served, she implored the
doctors to confine their efforts to one man among all of them who
suffered; she pleaded and stormed in turn, finally offering fabulous
bribes in support of her demands. For the time being, she was
half crazed with fear and dread, woefully unworthy of her station,
partially divorced from reason.

The more desperately wounded were left in the village with an
adequate guard, the rest of the command departing with Major March.
A temporary hospital was established in the convent. There were
two doctors and four or five nurses, with a dozen soldiers under
command of Lieutenant Bray. It was while the apparently dead Bansemer
was being moved to the improvised hospital that Jane presented
herself, distraught with fear, to the young Southerner who had
so plainly shown his love for her. She pleaded with him to start
at once for Manila with the wounded, supporting her extraordinary
request with the opinion that they could not receive proper care