As she spoke a tall, keen-looking, youngish man approached the bed. He was handsome and with a strong resemblance to his father; but his high forehead wore a peculiarly thoughtful, intent look, and there were the lines in his face made by constant devotion to some study, and a something in his eyes which suggested that he was thinking deeply of an object which had eluded his mental grasp. "Good-morning," he said quietly. "How is your patient?" "A little nervous and restless, sir. Ought she not to have change?" "Yes," said the young surgeon, taking the patient's hand and watching her intently. "As soon as we can move her, but we must hasten slowly. You will be glad to get back--home, Maria?" "Oh, yes, sir, please, sir. I am so tired of being here." "I suppose so," said the young surgeon. "Naturally;" and he turned to the nurse with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "It is so sad and painful, sir," she said gravely. "Poor thing! I am sure she has tried to be very patient." "Well, we will hear what Sir Denton says." Neil Elthorne went across the ward to another bed, and Maria uttered a little laugh. "What amuses you?" "Oh, nothing, nurse; I was only thinking. Of course I want to get home again. Anybody would." "Well, be patient. You are getting better, and you must think of health and strength, and the bright country life, where you will have fresh flowers and better fruit, and be among your friends." The nurse smiled, and then placed a little bottle of lavender water in her patient's hand. "To sprinkle about you when you feel faint," she said. "Thanky," said the woman, in a tone of voice which robbed the word of thankfulness; and the nurse went across to where the young surgeon was busy with another patient. "And she knows I don't like lavender water," grumbled the woman. "Always trying to play the fine lady nurse, and showing off, and I don't believe she's a lady at all. A real lady would have brought Padchouly or Odyklone. Think I don't know. Flowers and grapes only cheap rubbish. Can't afford better, I suppose." She lay back watching the actions of nurse and surgeon the while, and commenting thereon. "She's an artful one, she is, with all her demure looks and mincing ways. I'm not blind. Only come here because she can wear them play-acting clothes and show off. I haven't patience with her. Lady nurse, indeed. No more a lady than I am. Yes, of course. Look at that. But it won't do, madam. He's engaged, and if I see much more of it I'll tell the old doctor--see if I don't. You're not going to trap our Master Neil, and so I tell you. I should like to set Miss Saxa at her. My word, she'd startle my lady. Well, now; look at that!"