is voice sounded gruff and loud, and Lloyd almost jumped. The
harshness was so unexpected.

"Think again, child," he said, sternly. "Surely you have been told, at
least, of your brave countrywoman who is at the head of the organisation
in America, who nursed not only the wounded of your own land, but followed
the Red Cross of mercy on many foreign battle-fields!"

"Oh, a hospital nurse!" said Lloyd, wrinkling her forehead and trying to
think. "Miss Alcott was one. Everybody knows about her, and her 'Hospital
Sketches' are lovely."

"No! no!" exclaimed the Major, impatiently. Lloyd, feeling from his tone
that ignorance on this subject was something he could not excuse, tried
again.

"I've heard of Florence Nightingale. In one of my books at home, a
_Chatterbox_, I think, there is a picture of her going through a hospital
ward. Mothah told me how good she was to the soldiahs, and how they loved
her. They even kissed her shadow on the wall as she passed. They were so
grateful."

"Ah, yes," murmured the old man. "Florence Nightingale will live long in
song and story. An angel of mercy she was, through all the horrors of the
Crimean War; but she was an English woman, my dear. The one I mean is an
American, and her name ought to go down in history with the bravest of its
patriots and the most honoured of its benefactors. I learned to know her
first in that long siege at Strasburg. She nursed me there, and I have
followed her career with grateful interest ever since, noting with
admiration all that she has done for her country and humanity the world
over.

"If America ever writes a woman's name in her temple of fame, dear child
(I say it with uncovered head), that one should be the name of _Clara
Barton_."

The old soldier lifted his hat as he spoke, and replaced it so solemnly
that Lloyd felt very uncomfortable, as if she were in some way to blame
for not knowing and admiring this Red Cross nurse of whom she had never
heard. Her face flushed, and much embarrassed, she drew the toe of her
slipper along Hero's back, answering, in an abused tone:

"But, Majah, how could I be expected to know anything about her? There is
nothing in ou' school-books, and nobody told me, and Papa Jack won't let
me read the newspapahs, they're so full of horrible murdahs and things. So
how could I evah find out? I couldn't learn _everything_ in twelve yeahs,
and that's all the longah I've lived."

The Major laughed. "Forgive me, little on