properly,
and I shall not have any of the--trials--so many young women workers
have. My work will keep me very busy, and, I think, happy. I mean it
shall. But, Jerry--I want something. You know you have always known me,
because I was Hester's friend."

"Is this 'straight to the point'?" he asked, and there was a gleam of
fun in his eyes, though his lips were sober. But his interest was
unmistakable.

"Very straight. But we have never been special friends, you and I."

"Haven't we? I congratulated myself we had."

"Not what I mean by that word." She sat looking into the fire for some
little time, while he remained motionless, watching her, his eyes shaded
by his hand. At length she said very earnestly, still staring fireward,
while her cheeks took on a slight access of colour:

"I want to feel I have a friend--one friend--a real one, whom I leave
behind me here--who will understand me and write to me, and whom I can
count on--differently from the way I count on other friends."

He was studying her absorbedly. There came into his eyes a peculiar look
as she made her frank statement.

"Then you haven't just that sort of a friend among all the men you know
at home?"

"Not a single one. And I miss it. Not because I have ever had it," she
added quickly.

He was silent for a little while, then he said very quietly: "You are
offering me a good deal, Nan. Do you realize just how much?
Friendship--such friendship--means more to me now than it ever did
before."

"Does it?" she asked with equal quietness. "I'm glad of that."

"Because," he went on gravely, "I realize that it is the only thing I
can ever have, and it must take the place of all I once--hoped for."

"Oh, why do you say that?" she cried impetuously.

"Since you are to be my friend now--my special friend--I can tell you
what Doctor McDonough told me just two days ago. May I tell you that? I
have told and shall tell no one else. Before you take the vows"--he
smiled grimly--"you should know what you are accepting."

"Tell me."

"He said I might be better--much better--but I could never hope to
be--my old self again."

"Oh, Jerry! Oh, Jerry!" Her voice was almost a sob. She turned about and
reached up both hands to him, clasping his with a warm and tender
pressure.

"Is that what your friendship means?" he asked, holding her hands
closely and looking down steadily into her eyes while his own grew
brilliant. "If it does--it is going to be something a