ect of unusual
interest and attention.

At this instant the smile that appeared at the corners of the girl's
mouth banished the tired expression it had previously worn. One big
thing her war experiences had done for Mildred Thornton, it had given
her a new sense of values. Now she _knew_ the things that counted.
She had learned to smile at her own failure as a society girl, even to
understand and forgive her mother's chagrin at the fact.

Yet Mildred was influenced in a measure to continue her work in Europe
by these trivial points of view.

Should she return home and re-enter society as her mother wished, sooner
or later she must prove a second disappointment. For she had no social
gifts; she could never learn to talk as her friends did. If questions
were asked of her she could only reply with facts, not because she was
lacking in sympathy or imagination, but because she had not the grace of
words. So with neither beauty nor charm, how could she ever even hope to
gratify her mother by securing the distinguished husband she so desired
for her?

But since there was a place in the world for bees as well as
butterflies, Mildred never meant to allow herself to grow unhappy
again. She had a real talent for nursing; her work had received only
praise. So here in Europe, where there seemed to be the greatest need
of her services, she meant to remain as long as possible. This, in spite
of the alluring picture of home which would thrust itself before her
consciousness.

At this instant the boy on the bed moved and sighed and at the same
instant the American girl forgot herself. He had opened his eyes and
Mildred could see that he had become dimly conscious of his own
condition and his surroundings.

But this boy could never have been more than dimly conscious of most
things in his short life, he was so stupid and could neither read nor
write; indeed, he had a vocabulary of but a few hundred words. Peter had
been a laborer on the estates of a Polish nobleman when the call came to
arms. And so often in the past week while she had been caring for him
Mildred had been reminded of some farm animal by the way the boy
endured pain, he had been so dumb and uncomplaining.

Even now he made no attempt to speak, but as she leaned over and took
his hand Mildred realized that the boy could live but a few moments
longer.

After a little tender smoothing of his cover the girl turned away. The
Russian peasant is always a devout Cathol