Her duty to her godmother performed, and her resolution placed beyond recall, Nadia told herself that her lack of occupation had undoubtedly made it easier for her to fail in steadfastness, and that she must find something to do. She would no longer remain all day in the inn garden, but would go out into the village and try to make friends with the people, and this not only by way of a moral medicine for herself, but as a duty which she had neglected hitherto. She could not at first speak the language of the villagers nor they hers; but the interest she showed in the children won her a way into the hearts of the women, and she discovered, much to her surprise, that when a child was sick or hurt she could do more for it than any one else in Witska. In times of health the little ones found her somewhat solemn and unapproachable, for although she longed to make friends with them, she was not one of those who can throw themselves heart and soul into the small interests which seem so momentous to children; but when they were ill the experience she had gained in Princess Soudaroff’s cottage-hospital stood her in good stead. The nurses there had been wont to laugh at her as slow and clumsy; but at Witska, where there was no one to watch her with critical eyes, she succeeded in putting into practice the lessons she had learned. One or two cases of recovery from severe illness, which seemed miraculous to the villagers, but which were really due to patient nursing and modern methods of treatment, gained her a wide reputation, and appeals began to reach her from outlying hamlets and solitary huts, entreating her to pay a visit to some sick child. When these requests were translated to her by the cosmopolitan waiter, she welcomed them eagerly, for they promised fresh work, and work was what she wanted. A wild desire would seize her now and again to see Caerleon’s face once more, to hear his pleasant voice, to meet the glance, half puzzled, half amused, which he would cast at her when she had said anything that startled him. The vehemence of this longing for his presence alarmed her. She felt that she could almost volunteer to go to Bellaviste as a spy, if such a course would enable her to catch a glimpse of him; that she would be willing to meet the doom which Thracia kept for Scythian spies, if only she had seen him first. In this state of mind she welcomed the calls which came to her to take long mountain-walks and seek out distant families where a child lay ill, for the exertion of the day brought her back at night so tired that she was glad to go to bed and sleep the sleep of utter exhaustion. At first her long excursions drew upon her some opposition from her father. “Sure it’s not the thing,” he said, “for a young lady to be roaming about alone like this. I won’t allow ut.”