“Here still, my guardian angel,” he said, smiling gratefully on his watcher. “Here always, Albert. What will you have now? The others had their tea two hours ago. You can have yours now, if you like.” “No, nothing so warm as tea. A draught of that delicious lemonade. I am so thirsty.” Elfie filled a glass from a pitcher of iced lemonade that she kept at hand, and then she lifted his head while he drank it. “Ah, that is so refreshing,” he said, with a sigh of pleasure, as she laid him gently back on his pillow. At that moment the surgeon in charge and Sister Agnes came up together. “Well, you are looking much better this afternoon. I think the presence of this lady is a great restorative,” said the doctor, cheerfully addressing Goldsborough. “So great a restorative that it will save me if anything can,” smiled Albert. “Well now, we must look at your leg. And we must ask the lady to retire while we do so.” Elfie hesitated, until Albert turned to her and said: “Yes, darling, go. You need to be relieved from duty here for a little while, and now is your best opportunity. You shall return when they have done.” “Come with me,” said Sister Agnes. And Elfie stooped and kissed her husband, and then arose and followed the nurse. “Oh, Sister Agnes,” said Elfie, when they had left the ward, “you have experience; you can tell me; _don’t_ you think he is much better?” “Yes, I certainly do,” replied the Sister of Mercy, glad to be able to give the anxious young questioner some real encouragement. “And—_don’t_ you think he will get well?” eagerly inquired Elfie. “I think there are good grounds to hope so,” answered the sister: “there is certainly a great change for the better in him since this morning.” “Sister Agnes, is there any particular danger that may threaten him, and can I guard against it in any way?” “My dear, I will be frank with you. There is a possibility of another hemorrhage from his wound. You can guard against that by keeping him quiet and following the doctor’s directions in all matters.” “Oh, I will be so careful,” said Elfie. And by this time they had reached the little refectory used by Sister Agnes and her companions, and where Elfie’s dinner awaited her. A simple dinner of boiled chicken and mashed potatoes, rice pudding and green tea. “I added the green tea, my dear, to keep you awake. I suppose you will want to watch to-night?” “Oh, yes, yes! Many thanks for your kind thoughtfulness,” said Elfie, earnestly. When Elfie had finished her light repast, Sister Agnes took her to a small sleeping room in the third story, containing two little white beds, two little wash-stands and two chairs—and having no other furniture. “Sister Mary-Joseph and myself sleep here. That is my bed by the window. I advise you to lie down on it and rest for an hour or two before you return to your patient. He will be well taken care of during your absence, never fear,” said Sister Agnes.