sergeant
was an earnest Christian, she had many interesting talks with him on the
subject nearest his heart.

One day she said to him with unusual animation:

"The doctor says you may go down to the Soldiers' Institute that has
recently been set up here, and stay for some time to recruit. It is not
intended for invalids, you know, but the ladies in charge are intimate
friends of mine, and have agreed to let you have a room. The Institute
stands on a very pleasant part of the shore, exposed to the fresh
sea-breezes; and there are lots of books and newspapers and games, as
well as lectures, concerts, prayer-meetings, Bible-readings, and--"

"Ay, just like Miss Robinson's Institute at Portsmouth," interrupted
Hardy. "I know the sort o' thing well."

"The Alexandrian Soldiers' Institute is _also_ Miss Robinson's,"
returned the nurse, with a pleased look; "so if you know the one at
Portsmouth, there is no need for my describing the other to you. The
change will do you more good in a week than months at this place. And
I'll come to see you frequently. There is a widow lady staying there
just now to whom I will introduce you. She has been helping us to nurse
here, for she has great regard for soldiers; but her health having
broken-down somewhat, she has transferred her services to the Institute
for a time. She is the widow of a clergyman who came out here not long
ago and died suddenly. You will find her a very sympathetic soul."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

OLD FRIENDS IN NEW ASPECTS.

On the evening of the third day after the conversation narrated in the
last chapter, Sergeant Hardy sat in an easy-chair on the verandah of the
Soldiers' Institute at Alexandria, in the enjoyment of a refreshing
breeze, which, after ruffling the blue waters of the Mediterranean, came
like a cool hand on a hot brow, to bless for a short time the land of
Egypt.

Like one of Aladdin's palaces the Institute had sprung up--not exactly
in a night, but in a marvellously short space of time. There was more
of interest about it, too, than about the Aladdin buildings; for whereas
the latter were evolved magically out of that mysterious and undefinable
region termed Nowhere, the Miss Robinson edifice came direct from smoky,
romantic London, without the advantage of supernatural assistance.

When Miss Robinson's soldier friends were leaving for the seat of war in
Egypt, some of them had said to her, "Three thousand miles from home are
three