ce for me," he said, in
grave displeasure.

She smiled down at him, with the air of a mother smiling at a
fretful child. The smile irritated him.

"Doesn't it refresh you?" she asked quietly.

"No," he answered, with flat, ungracious, mendacity.

"I am sorry. You have been sleeping heavily, and--"

He felt his mind slipping out of his own grasp, and he strove to
hold it in his keeping.

"No matter now," he interrupted hastily. "Please get me--"

She waited in silence. Then she asked encouragingly,--

"What shall I get you?"

The mind was almost gone; but still he held fast to the edge of it,
as he murmured,--

"Some bully beef."

The nurse turned away. Her lips were smiling; but her eyes clouded,
as the babbling began once more.

Twenty-four hours later, she was greeted by a white-faced,
clear-headed trooper.

"Good-morning, nurse," he said coolly. "You see I am better."

"Much better, Mr. Weldon," she assented cordially. He looked
puzzled. "I thought we fellows in hospital had no names, nothing but
numbers," he answered.

"It depends. When one meets an old friend, the number isn't quite
the right name for him."

Turning slightly, he stared up at her with the impassive curiosity
of a man just coming back from The Unknown. Then he shook his head.

"I am afraid--" he began slowly.

With a quick gesture, she took off her crisp white cap, uncovering a
heavy pile of ink-black hair. "There!" she said, with a smile. "Does
that make me look more natural, Mr. Weldon? I am Alice Mellen, Cooee
Dent's cousin."

Instantly he put out his hand, sunburned still, but curiously thin.
The smile on his lips was the boyish, frank smile which Alice had
seen and liked, that afternoon in the garden at home.

"What good angel brings you here?" he asked eagerly.

"No angel; merely the lady who rules over the household of Mars. I
am glad to find you again, even if the Johannesburg hospital isn't a
good place for a man. But you mustn't talk now. Later, we can make
up for lost time."

Impetuously his fingers shut on a fold of her apron. Then his native
instincts and his years of training asserted themselves, and he let
go once more. Nevertheless, his eyes were appealing.

"Don't go."

"But I must," she answered, her hands busy with her cap.

Her tone showed that, like himself, she too had learned the meaning
of an order. He yielded to its quiet firmness.

"If you must. But, before you go, tell me this: have I bee