The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1884-02-16

tell Sibyl and Gladys l am sorry not to
say good-by, and aunt that l regret hay
ing displeased her, and-and-. Oh,
how happy | have been, and how fool
ISL and-but-"
She grew incoherent and tearfllagain,
and again Frank urged her to differ
ent course of conduct but she was not
to be entrcated or urged or advised. In
her hot young indignation the world
was her retreat she could do anything,
bear anything, but tyranny and injustice
and unkindness. Little indeed did she
know of the world, but she was earnest
and true and strong, and ready to do
her best.
1t is night in one of the great city
hospitals, and all is silent but for the
means of those in pain and the mutter-
ings of those in fever.
Pacing slowly up and down the aisle
of a ward full of white cots on which
are helpless sufferers is a nurse whose
duty it is to watch and wait upon those
who require the little attentions they
can not bestow upon themselves.
To one she gives a glass of water,
another's pillow needs raising, and an
other demands soothing words. To all
alike she yields cheerful compliance,
stopping often merely to give kind
look or a little show of interest. The
dim light falls upon her slim figure in
its neat gown, and reveals the sweet and
sympathetic face of a woman OF mature
years, more beautiful even than in its
first bloom.
1t is a face of rare charm, so con-
tented, SO placid, and yet SO bright and
cheerful. Evidently to those poor sick
people it is a boon just to gaze upon it.
But Just now she is called away ply
sician wishes to speak to her-probably
give his orders for the night. She hast
ems to the office where he is waiting.
Miss Stanton, here is a telegram
from uptown, You know DIR. Ganse-
WORT, | presume. He wants you to
attend a patient"
is there no one else that can go?
| never take outside cases if | can avoid
it."
positively no one, and as he speci-
fees you, ! should not like to disappoint
him."
''Ncll, then, l shall have to go, |
suppose but what is the nature of the
case? ?"
AN accident
"Can you supply my place here??"
.'Nes. We shall have to double the
duties.''
With the promptness of custom, no
more questions were asked, and in a
few moments Miss Stanton was on her
way to Fifth Avenue. As she rolled
along in the darkness, with only the
street lamps occasionally lifting it, her
thoughts were as calm and cool as if
she had been a belle to whom the tri-
umphs of a ballroom were an old story !;
but she knew that she had need of all
her courage and all her resources. The
carriage stopped before great gloomy
brown stone house, and the door was
instantly opened by a waiting footman.
Over the marble hall and up the oaken
stairway and under tapestries and velvet
han9ings she was ushered into an ante
chamber, where, quickly divesting her
self of her wraps, she waited In few
moments DIR. Gansevoort appeared, and
briefly related all that had happened,
all that was required. The man had
been thrown from his carriage, causing
fracture of both legs-they had been
set-there was nothing to do now but
to watch most carefully.
Miss Stanton entered the room. 1t
was superb in all its appointments.
Though the light was low, the carved
wood, the frescoes, the glitter of cut
glass and brass, and the luxurious divans
were all apparent. Rather different
from the bare walls of the hospital ward
were these beautiful reaches of land
scape and rare interiors in their rich
frames but, all the same as on the mar
row hospital cots, here among the ruffles
and lace of downy pillows was human
sufferer glasses and towels and sponges
and all the appurtenances of surgery
were about-means for relieving the
terrible agony which in hospital or pal
ace pursues its victim. With notebook
and pencil, walls and written orders,
Miss Stanton took her place at the bed
side. The sufferer was asleep, his face
hidden in the clothes. Strange to say,
she had not asked his name. Why was
it that in this silent watch her thoughts
returned to her girlhood-to the far-of-
home of her youth, which she had left
when happy, thoushtless child for the
abode of wealth and luxury, from which
she had been thrust forth as unworthy
and disobedient? How long the years
OF study and disappointment and hard
work seemed and how well she re-
membered all the chilling rebuifs she
had met from the day her aunt had
spoken those cruel words, and she had
taken refuge with her old friend Mrs.
Russell, whose influence and interest
had at last secured her position in the
training school for nurses All, it was
no easy task she had taken upon her
self, but how tranquil and assured now
her life had become since she had been