e in her own sufficient hand.

The reticent passenger had fallen behind with the negro boatman, with
whom he walked slowly, closing the line.

After a few moments, he advanced and hesitatingly joined the lady,
beginning to say:

"May I ask you--"

"Ah," interrupted Dr. Dare, cordially, "it is you."

"Will you tell me, madam, the best way of going to work to offer
myself as a fever nurse in this place? I want the _best_ way. I want
real work."

"Yes, yes," she said, nodding; "I knew you would do it."

"I came from the North for this purpose, but I meant to go on to
Savannah."

"Yes, I know. This is better; they need _everything_ in this place."

She looked toward the gasping little town through the relentless noon.
Her merciful blue eyes filled, but the man's look followed with a dry,
exultant light.

"There is no porter," he said, abruptly, glancing at her heavy bag and
shawl-strap. "Would you permit me to help you?"

"Oh, thank you!" replied Dr. Dare, heartily, relinquishing her burden.

Plainly, this poor fellow was not a gentleman. The lady could afford
to be kind to him.

"I know nothing how we shall find it," she chatted, affably, "but I go
to work to-night. I presume I shall need nurses before morning. I'll
have your address."

She took from her gray sacque pocket a physician's note-book, and
stood, pencil in hand.

"My name," he said, "is Hope--Zerviah Hope."

She wrote without comment, walking as she wrote; he made no other
attempt to converse with her. The two physicians followed, exchanging
now and then a subdued word. The negro dragged himself wearily over
the scorching sand, and thus the little procession of pity entered the
town of Calhoun.

My story does not deal with love or ladies. I have to relate no tender
passages between the fever-physicians, volunteers from New York, for
the afflicted region of Calhoun. Dr. Marian Dare came South to do a
brave work, and I have no doubt she did it bravely, as a woman should.
She came in pursuit of science, and I have no doubt she found it, as a
woman will. Our chief interest in her at this time lies in the fact
that certain missing fragments in the history of the person known as
Zerviah Hope we owe to her. She hovers over the tale with a distant
and beautiful influence, pervading as womanly compassion and alert as
a woman's eye.

I have nothing further to say about the story before I tell it, except
that it is true.

* *