and partly through excitement, she ended in a sort of nervous sob, and,
going to the window, stood with her back to him.

He followed her, and, because they were old neighbors, she did not resent
it when he put his hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know--of course, if you feel like that about it," he said, "we'll
see what can be done. It's hard work, and a good many times it seems
futile. They die, you know, in spite of all we can do. And there are many
things that are worse than death--"

His voice trailed off. When he had started out in his profession, he had
had some such ideal of service as this girl beside him. For just a moment,
as he stood there close to her, he saw things again with the eyes of his
young faith: to relieve pain, to straighten the crooked, to hurt that he
might heal,--not to show the other men what he could do,--that had been
his early creed. He sighed a little as he turned away.

"I'll speak to the superintendent about you," he said. "Perhaps you'd like
me to show you around a little."

"When? To-day?"

He had meant in a month, or a year. It was quite a minute before he
replied:--

"Yes, to-day, if you say. I'm operating at four. How about three
o'clock?"

She held out both hands, and he took them, smiling.