knew that and was not surprised. After taking
the temperature and doing all she could for the moment, she left the
bedside and sat down to read her breviary by the light on the other
side of the screen. The illness was only an attack of influenza after
all, and she knew how strong her aunt had always been; there was no
cause for anxiety, nor any necessity for sitting constantly within
sight of the patient. Twice an hour she rose, went to the sick woman's
side and gave her medicine, or drink, or merely smoothed the pillow a
little, as the case might be, and then came back to the table. The
Princess was not so restless as most people are in fever, and she did
not try to talk, but took whatever was given her like a model of
resignation. The delirium had left her for the present.

Reading slowly, and often meditating on what she read, Sister Giovanna
did not finish the office for the day and close her book till nearly
midnight. Her old watch lay on the table beside the candlestick, and
her eyes were on the hands as she waited till it should be exactly
twelve before taking the patient's temperature again. But it still
wanted three minutes of the hour when the Princess's voice broke the
profound silence. The words were spoken quietly, in a far-away tone:

'I stole it.'

Sister Giovanna started more nervously than a nurse should, and looked
straight at the screen as if she could see her aunt's face through the
leather. In a few seconds she heard the voice again, and though the
tone was lower, the words were as distinct as if spoken close to her
ear.

'I hid it on me, and left my little bag behind on purpose because the
footman would be sure to open that, to take my cigarettes. I knew he
often did. It was very clever of me was it not? He will swear that he
went back for the bag and that there were no papers in it.'

It was not the first time, by many, that Sister Giovanna had heard a
delirious patient tell a shameful secret that had been kept long and
well. She rose with an effort, pressing one hand upon the table. It
was plainly her duty to prevent any further revelations if she could
and to forget what she had heard; for a trained nurse's standard of
honour must be as high as a doctor's, since she is trusted as he is.

Yet the nun waited a moment before going round the screen,
unconsciously arguing that if the patient did not speak again it would
be better not to disturb her at that moment. To tell the truth, too,
Sist