"It will not agitate him in the least, Doctor," she said, after a moment's pause, "I can answer for that. We are old friends, for he has known me since I was a little child; we are more like cousins than anything else, and if he knows which ambulance he is in, I am sure he will be surprised if I do not come to him." "I think it is likely he will guess," Dr. Swinburne said, "when he hears the nurses speaking English; and, indeed, it seems that either he or one of the others particularly asked to be sent here. If it is as you say, your presence may do him good rather than harm, and you can go to him for a short time; but remember that you are not fit for nursing and that the sooner you are able to get home again the better. You have been on duty more than twenty-four hours and it has been a terribly trying time for you all." Mary nodded. "I really feel better now, Doctor. I have been very anxious about Mr. Hartington ever since I knew that his corps had gone out, and I think suspense is harder to bear than anything. You will see I shan't break down again." "If you do, Miss Brander, remember I shall have to take your name off the list of nurses. We have enough to do and think about here without having fainting young ladies on our hands." He spoke gravely, but Mary saw he was not really in earnest. "I never thought," she said, "that I should come under the category of a fainting young lady, and I feel humiliated. Then I may go in, Doctor?" "Yes, if you are sure of yourself and are certain that it won't agitate him." A minute later she stood by Cuthbert's side. He was lying on his back with his eyes open. A hospital rug had been thrown over him. As she bent over him his eyes fell on her face and he smiled faintly. "I was wondering whether you had heard I was here," he said, in a voice so low that she could scarce hear it. "Well, you see, I brought my eggs to a bad market, and your friends, the Prussians, have given me a lesson I would not learn from you. But we beat them fairly and squarely, there is a satisfaction in that." "There does not seem much consolation in it, Cuthbert," she said, quietly. "There is to me," he said, "that shows you are not a soldier. To a soldier it makes all the difference as he lies wounded, whether he has shared in a victory or suffered in a defeat." "Then I am very glad that you have won if it makes any difference to you, Cuthbert. Now you know you have to lie very still, and I am sure talking is very bad for you." "I don't suppose it makes any difference one way or the other, Mary. A few hours, perhaps, but whether it is to-day or to-morrow is immaterial." "You must not talk like that, Cuthbert, and you must not think so. The doctor says that although, of course, you are badly wounded, he thinks there is every hope for you." "So the surgeon said who dressed my wounds last night, Mary, but I knew that he did not really think so."