on of the skin;
we used the French expedient of putting quinine pads under the armpits
to reduce the terrible temperature. Nurse was indefatigable--a miracle
of energy and resource--but through all her anxiety and tenderness for
the little patient, it was impossible not to recognise the keen
professional zest in a "good case."

"Give me a bad pneumonia, and I'm happy!" said she, frankly, and she
meant what she said.

At those rare intervals when Billie fell into a fitful sleep, I used to
steal out of the room and pay a visit to the dining-room, where, on two
arm-chairs on opposite sides of the fire, the poor father and his friend
sat drearily smoking, and waiting until the small hours of the morning.
It was useless to tell Mr Thorold to go to bed. His wife had breathed
her last at two o'clock in the morning, and he was possessed by a dread
that Billie would do the same. At three or thereabouts he might be
persuaded to move, but until then it was but a waste of breath to ask
it. Poor fellow! To have his old friend by his side was the best
comfort that was left, but how he must have missed his wife, and how
endlessly, breathlessly long the hours must have seemed, sitting with
folded hands, with nothing to do but to wait! Even I--an outsider--was
oppressed by the difference in the atmosphere of the two rooms. In the
sick-room there was suffering indeed, but there was also a constant,
earnest fight; here, the heavy, smoke-filled air seemed to breathe of
despair!

On those midnight visits, the first thing I did after giving my report,
was to open the window, and the second to make a jug of chocolate,
beating the powder in the milk till it foamed, in tempting continental
fashion. The men shivered and protested. They were in a draught; they
were not hungry; they wanted neither chocolate nor sandwiches; but I
went on with my preparations in an elderly, persistent fashion, and said
if they didn't--well, I did, and I hoped they would not grudge me a
little refreshment in the midst of my labours. By the time that the
little meal was prepared, the smoke had cleared away and left a little
air to breathe, so then I made a favour of shutting the window and
poking the fire, and we would sit down together, and--it was wonderful
how much we could eat! If Aunt Eliza could have seen me then, what--oh,
what would she have said! How I blessed the grey wig and the
spectacles, and the few deft, disfiguring touches which made my