to bid me good-night! I was
obliged to confess that they had seemed as happy as possible.

It was very late when he left the cottage; I was just sinking off to
sleep when I heard his voice under my window. Tinker heard it too, and
barked, and then the gate shut with a sudden sharp click and all was
still. Nathaniel must have crept up to bed in his stocking-feet, as they
say in some parts, for I never heard him pass my door.

I was glad to be greeted by sunshine the next morning; the day seemed to
smile on my new work like an unuttered benison, as I went down to my
solitary breakfast. I resolved that nothing Mr. Hamilton could say should
damp or put me out of temper, and then I sat down and read a sad rambling
letter from Jill, which was so quaint and original, in spite of its
lugubriousness, that it made me smile.

I was standing by the door, caressing Tinker, who was in a frolicking
mood this morning, when I saw Mr. Hamilton cross the road; he wore a dark
tweed suit and a soft felt hat,--a costume that did not suit him in the
least; he held open the gate for me, and made a sign that I should join
him. As I approached without hurrying myself in the least, he looked
inquiringly at the basket I carried.

'I hope you do not intend to pauperise your patients,' was his first
greeting.

'Oh no,' was my reply, but I did not volunteer any information as to the
contents of the basket. There was certainly a jar of beef-tea that Mrs.
Drabble had given me, and a few grapes; but the little store of soap,
soda, fine rags, and the two or three clean towels and cloths would have
surprised him a little, though he might have understood the meaning of
the neat housewife.

'I am glad you wear print dresses,' was his next remark; 'they are proper
for a nurse. Stuff gowns that do not wash are abominations. I am taking
you to a very dirty place, Miss Garston, but what can you expect when
there are seven children under thirteen years of age and the mother is
dying? She was a clean capable body when she was up; it is hard for her
to see the place like a pig-sty now. Old Mrs. Marshall is blind, and as
helpless as the children,' He spoke abruptly, but not without feeling.

'The neighbours are good to them, Uncle Max tells me.'

'Oh yes; they come in and tidy up a bit, that is their expression; now
and then they wash the baby or take off a batch of dirty clothes, but
they have their own homes and children. I tell my patient that she would