cruit in
the hospital uniform; but no man forgot his duty or was false to earlier
vows through her allurements.

Mrs. Hull had cast a sharp glance at the dainty figure and flower-like
face under the nurse's linen gown and close cap. Annie's sister
probationers, four of them considerably older than herself, had
telegraphed to each other emphatic--perhaps pardonable enough--signals
that the last accession to their number was so very ornamental they
could hardly expect her to be useful. They must look out for defects,
and prepare to atone for failures by their surpassing attainments. But
the mistake was soon rectified, and fresh light dawned on the doubtful
question. Mrs. Hull was the first to recognize and testify that nothing
was to be feared from Annie Millar's youth and beauty, while something
might be gained by them, because she was far more than pretty--she was a
bright, clever girl, very obedient to orders, and exceedingly anxious
to learn her business. In her St. Ebbe's had secured an auxiliary of the
highest promise. The elder sister probationers soon found that instead
of wanting indulgence, forbearance, and pity, the newcomer was more in
danger of awakening their envy as well as their respect by her quickness
in mastering details, her mental grasp of principles, her inexhaustible
spirit.

Yet poor Annie had no light apprenticeship to serve. The programme,
which extends from making poultices and making beds to receiving
doctors' instructions, understanding them, remembering them, and acting
on them, is neither short nor easy, though a fairly good and trained
intellect and an unswerving devotion to duty will get through it
triumphantly in time. Annie underwent the entire ordeal, while she
doubtless brought a little additional intelligence and capacity and a
few more grains of experience to the task than would have existed if she
had not been Dr. Millar's daughter. In spite of the warm woollen jacket
and cuffs which she wore under her linen gown, her little hands were
covered with the chaps and chilblains which are the scourge of
maids-of-all-work, because of their early rising, hard scrubbing, and
the frequency with which their fingers are wet and dried on chill winter
mornings. Her legs ached, as they had never ached after a night's
dancing, with being on her feet all day long, and day after day,
waiting on her patients and attending on the sisters who were placed
over the respective wards. Her mind, too, was k