nurse's cap under her halo will slip down and cure her thumbs before she
wakes up."

The irons she had set to heating were much too hot. Should she run
out-of-doors while one of them cooled, and lie in wait to catch the
little nurse-angel on the wing or perhaps darting thrillingly down to
Stefana on a shooting star, breaking all speed limits! This was a night
for adventure. The wild ride of a becapped and haloed little celestial
in goggles would be an adventure! Miss Theodosia laughed out girlishly,
not at all a tottery laugh on a cane, and the pleasant sound broke the
midnight stillness.

The dresses were dry enough to roll into tight bundles. One she essayed
to iron as it was. She began as soon as the iron was cool enough.

Miss Theodosia toiled--adventured--through the long hours into the
short. It was unaccustomed toiling, and, like Stefana, she burned her
thumbs. She had judgment and the skill that age kindly lends, in her
favor, and slowly her delicate fingers undid the ravages of Stefana's
patient endeavors and brought beauteous perfection out of apparent ruin.
But the process was wearying and long. It would have been but half the
labor to have begun at the beginning instead of at Stefana's poor little
end.

At midnight, Miss Theodosia made herself cups of tea and sipped them
thirstily. A wrist, both thumbs, and her testing forefinger smarted; she
was tired and disheveled. But the spirit of adventure refused to die.

The fire burned red-hot and the irons must cool again. Miss Theodosia
slipped out this time into the soft darkness.