imself of her assistance. The physician had
barely held his own in several encounters with her aunt, whom he
suspected of endeavoring to administer unauthorized preparations to his
patient, while on her part Mrs. Savine freely admitted that at her age
she could not sit up all night forever. So Helen was installed, and it
was midnight when she commenced her first watch.

"You will call me at once if the patient wakes complaining of any
pain," said the surgeon. "Do I think he is out of danger? Well, he is
very weak yet, my dear young lady, but if you will carry out my orders,
I fancy we may hope for the best. But you must remember that a nurse's
chief qualifications are presence of mind and a perfect serenity."

"I will not fail you," promised Helen, choking back a sob of relief;
and, trusting that the doctor did not see her quivering face, she added
softly, "Heaven is merciful!"

She had been prepared for a change, but she was startled at the sight
of Thurston. He lay with blanched patches in the paling bronze on his
face, which had grown hollow and lined by pain. Still he was sleeping
soundly, and did not move when she bent over him. She stooped further
and touched his forehead with her lips, rose with the hot blood pulsing
upwards from her neck, and stood trembling, while, either dreaming or
stirred by some influence beyond man's knowledge, the sleeper smiled,
murmuring, "Helen!"

It was daylight when Thurston awakened, and stared as if doubtful of
his senses at his new nurse, until, approaching the frame of canvas
whereon he lay, Helen, with a gentle touch, caressingly brushed the
hair from his forehead.

"I have come to help you to get better. We cannot spare you,
Geoffrey," she said simply.

The sick man asked no question nor betrayed further astonishment. He
looked up gratefully into the eyes which met his own for a moment and
grew downcast again. "Then I shall certainly cheat the doctors yet,"
he declared.

Under the circumstances his words were distinctly commonplace, but
speech is not the sole means of communion between mind and mind, and
for the present both were satisfied. Helen laughed and blushed happily
when, as by an after thought, Geoffrey added, "It is really very kind
of you."

"You must not talk," she admonished with a half-shy assumption of
authority, strangely at variance with her former demeanor. "I shall
call in my aunt with the elixir if you do."

Geoffrey smiled, but the