mound of earth and staring after it, her face
touched by the amber glow of a westering sun that hung as an immense
orange in the smoke of battle, all of Hillsdale would have gasped at her
amazing beauty. For the mere prettiness which they had known, enhanced
by happiness and laughter, was now transformed. As the chisel of Michael
Angelo first carved but a placid face for the Mary in his masterful
Pieta, and later gnawed into it shadows of pain and love until it became
a part of God, so had the chisel of suffering humanity brought out the
wonderful character which had been a latent part of this Nurse Marian.
Her figure, while always the embodiment of grace, though attuned to the
easy things of life, now stood as if it were akin to war's great sinew.
She seemed indeed to be an ivory column of strength and softness, of
support and beauty, of courage and tenderness.

In another minute she turned and went back to the dressing-stations
where there was much cleaning up to be done--or as much as could be
done--before the next stretcher arrived. Yet it did not come. The room,
the table, the instruments had been put in order; the great Bonsecours
sat resting on a box, and the other nurses had stepped outside the
entrance, furtively watching. It seemed incredible that in all the
head-splitting noises so near to them there should not be wounded men
for the gathering!

"I don't understand it," he arose and crossed to Marian. "But, surely,
some will be here soon!"--for, unlike Barrow's unit stationed a hundred
yards away, his orderlies and assistants had been trained in many
battles. There could be only one answer if they remained out much
longer!--and he would then go himself, to fetch his own cases. He had
done it many times before, which was one of the reasons the French army
worshipped him.

"I'll run up and look," she cried.

"No, I'm afraid," he said.

"The great Bonsecours afraid?" she laughed--for, no matter how tired her
own body might feel, she always managed to laugh when he showed signs of
great fatigue.

"Afraid I could not live if anything happened to you, _mon chere_," he
murmured.

A startled look flashed into her eyes, slightly different than that
caused by the excitement of battle. Many weeks ago her intuition had
measured the strength of this man's love for her, and had seen with
unerring accuracy his honorable resistance to its pleading, when, during
temporary lulls in their work, he might have spoken. T