xcited--seeing the Ward quite full,
and, perhaps, not being used to hospitals. However it was, though the
nurse pointed out the right bed to her, she ran in a mighty hurry to the
wrong one."

"I understand," said Ralph; "just as some women run into the wrong
omnibus, when the right one is straight before them."

"Exactly. Well, she only discovered her mistake (the room being rather
dark), after she had stooped down close over the stranger, who was lying
with his head away from her. By that time, the nurse was at her side,
and led her to the right bed. There, I'm told, another scene happened.
At sight of the patient's face, which is very frightfully disfigured,
she was on the point (as the nurse thought) of going into a fit; but
Turner stopped her in an instant. He just laid his hand on her arm, and
whispered something to her; and, though she turned as pale as ashes, she
was quiet directly. The next thing they say he did, was to give her a
slip of paper, coolly directing her to go to the address written on
it, and to come back to the hospital again, as soon as she could show a
little more resolution. She went away at once--nobody knows where."

"Has nobody asked where?"

"Yes; a fellow who said he was her father, and who behaved like a
madman. He came here about an hour after she had left, and wouldn't
believe that we knew nothing about her (how the deuce _should_ we know
anything!) He threatened Turner (whom, by the bye, he called Manning,
or some such name) in such an outrageous manner, that we were obliged
to refuse him admission. Turner himself will give no information on the
subject; but I suspect that his injuries are the result of a quarrel
with the father about the daughter--a pretty savage quarrel, I must say,
looking to the consequences--I beg your pardon, but your brother seems
ill! I'm afraid," (turning to me), "you find the room rather close?"

"No, indeed; not at all. I have just recovered from a serious
illness--but pray go on."

"I have very little more to say. The father went away in a fury, just
as he came; the daughter has not yet made her appearance a second time.
But, after what was reported to me of the first interview, I daresay she
_will_ come. She must, if she wants to see Turner; he won't be out,
I suspect, for another fortnight. He has been making himself worse by
perpetually writing letters; we were rather afraid of erysipelas, but
he'll get over that danger, I think."

"About the woma