trate."

Later, that same day, Olive dropped in on Reed again. She was lonely,
she claimed, without her father, restless and nervous from thinking
much about the Brentons, wondering what Brenton himself would do. And
Reed, who had grown eager at her coming, felt his eagerness departing
while he listened to her second reason. Even his courage recognized the
fact that there were limits to his strength. It seemed to him quite
intolerable that he must lie there and smile, and assent politely to
the divagations of Olive concerning Brenton's future plans. Besides,
loyal as he was to Olive, Reed was conscious of a little disappointment
that a girl, even as uncompromisingly downright as she, should be quite
so prompt in expressing interest in Brenton's future.

But Olive, noticing his reticence, laid it only to the exhaustion of a
hideously rainy day, and talked on steadily. What Reed did not know
till later was that her steady monologue was designed to cover up her
real intention for just a little while, that she might gain time to
stiffen to the resolution she had taken. The resolution had been
growing up in her for weeks; it had come to its climax, only that very
morning, when she had met Ramsdell on the Opdyke steps.

"How is Mr. Opdyke?" she had queried.

Then she had caught her breath at Ramsdell's answer.

"Rather poorly, Miss Keltridge."

She cast a hasty glance upward, to assure herself that Reed's windows
were not open.

"What do you mean?" she demanded sharply then.

Ramsdell looked down upon her gloomily.

"That I'm uneasy, Miss Keltridge. There's no one thing the matter, and
yet Mr. Hopdyke does seem to be losing ground. It's 'is ambition runs
away with all 'is strength. As long as he kept still on his back, 'e
gained. But now 'e seems to be trying to get hout of bed and leave his
back be'ind 'im, as that 'ealing woman told him; and, like all of us,
he isn't meant to cast off his own spinal column, bad as 'tis. His work
won't 'urt 'im, if he takes it quiet; but, as a nurse trained in the
Royal 'Ospital, I must hinsist it is bad for any man to try to do
Delsarte gymnastics on a hempty stomach of a morning."

Despite her consternation, Olive laughed.

"Can't you make him stop it, Ramsdell?"

"Impossible, Miss Keltridge. When it comes to that I'm nothing but
another man. What Mr. Hopdyke needs now is a woman to manage 'im and
cocker 'im up a bit. In spite of all his work and that, he's away off
on 'is n