, already rested and
looking like sleep.

"I say, this is heavenly," he murmured. "Now a drink, if you please. I
believe there is medicine about due too," he said. She gave him a drink,
lifting up his head on her strong arm. "I could lift myself, you know,"
he said, looking up into her face with a little smile, "but I like this
way so much better if you don't mind."

"Certainly not; I am your nurse, you know," replied Kathleen. "Now your
medicine." She found the bottle under his direction and, again lifting
his head, gave him his medicine.

"Oh, this is fine. I will take my medicine as often as you want me to,
and I think another drink would be good." She brought him the glass. "I
like to drink slowly," he said, looking up into her eyes. But she shook
her head at him.

"No nonsense now," she warned him.

"Nonsense!" he said, sinking back with a sigh, "I want you to believe
me, Kathleen, it is anything but nonsense. My God, it is religion!"

"Now then," said Kathleen, ignoring his words, "I shall just smooth
out your pillows and straighten down your bed, tuck you in and make you
comfortable for the night and then--"

"And then," he interrupted eagerly, "oh, Kathleen, all good children get
it, you know."

A deep flush tinged her face. "Now you are not behaving properly."

"But, Kathleen," he cried, "why not? Listen to me. There's no use. I
cannot let you go till I have this settled. I must know. No, don't pull
away from me, Kathleen. You know I love you, with all my soul, with all
I have, I love you. Oh, don't pull away from me. Ever since that day
when I first saw you three months ago I have loved you. I have tried not
to. God knows I have tried not to because I thought you were pledged
to that--that German fellow. Tell me, Kathleen. Why you are shaking,
darling! Am I frightening you? I would not frighten you. I would not
take advantage of you. But do you care a little bit? Tell me. I have had
ten days of sheer hell. For one brief minute I thought you loved me.
You almost said you did. But then you never came to me and I have feared
that you did not care. But to-night I must know. I must know now."
He raised himself up to a sitting posture. "Tell me, Kathleen; I must
know."

"Oh, Jack," she panted. "You are not yourself now. You are weak and just
imagine things."

"Imagine things," he cried with a kind of fierce rage. "Imagine! Haven't
I for these three months fought against this every day? Oh, Kathleen, if