There was not much to see, only that Neil Elthorne had spoken as they were leaving the other patient's bedside, and the nurse had turned to look at him as if half startled, and then turned away and came back seeming slightly disturbed. But by the time she had reached the first patient's bedside her face was perfectly calm again, and an unbiased observer would have said that it was very beautiful in its gentle, resigned expression. "Let me sprinkle a little of the scent for you," she said. "Oh, very well. If you like," said Maria ungraciously. Then quickly, and with a flash of suspicion in her eyes, "I say, why do you look at me like that? You don't think I shall die, do you?" "Oh, no," said the nurse, smiling, "indeed no. You will get better and go." "But lots of them do die, don't they?" "Some do, unfortunately; but why should you think of that?" "You've seen lots die, haven't you?" "Yes," said the nurse gravely; "in spite of all our efforts; and I have seen many grow strong and well, thanks to the skill of Sir Denton Hayle and Mr Elthorne." "We always call him Mr Neil at home; master's Mr Elthorne." "And go away at last, cured," continued the nurse, not heeding the interruption, "thankful for Heaven's mercy and full of gratitude to those who have tended them." "So am I," said Maria, shortly. "You think I'm not, but I am." "Hush! Do not talk. You are getting flushed and excited. Here is Sir Denton." "That's right," muttered Maria, as the nurse left the bedside to go toward a slight little white-haired gentleman, closely shaven, and whose lips were closely compressed, as, with his large, deeply-set eyes he gave a quick glance round the ward, which became perfectly still as he approached. "Good-morning," he said. "Come, my child, this will not do. Too pale! Too much application. The nurse will have to be nursed if we go on like this." "Oh, no, I am quite well, Sir Denton," she said, smiling, with quite an affectionate look in her face. "Then I am an ignorant old pretender, my child," he said gravely. "Well, Elthorne, anything special to report?" "Number forty-four, here, not quite so well as I should like to see her. Been a little feverish in the night, has she not, nurse?" "Yes, sir," replied the nurse; "but if I might say so--." "Of course, of course," said Sir Denton, "a little irritable." "I think it is more that she is fretting to get away from here, than from any fresh complication." "Let's see," said the keen-looking old surgeon, turning at once to the bed, where Maria had lain watching them and trying to catch their words. "Well," he said aloud, as he seated himself and made his rapid examination, "flowers and fruit, and a clear eye and a clean tongue. Healthy look, too, about your skin, and the colour coming back. Why, you may get up--yes, for an hour or two, say the day after to-morrow, and in another week or two we will send you back home cured. What do you say to that?" "Thanky, sir."