The nurse's work in Corinth was nearly finished; she would probably never meet this man again. She started at the thought. Would she ever meet him again? What did it matter? And yet--she would not confess it even to herself, but it did, somehow, seem to matter. Of one thing she was sure--he was well worth knowing. She had felt that there was a depth, a richness, a genuineness to him, and it was this feeling, this certainty of him, that had led her to such openness. Yes--she was sure there were treasures there--deep within, for those whom he chose to admit. She wished--(why should she not confess it after all)--she wished that she might be admitted. Hope Farwell was alone in the world with no near living relatives. She had only her friends; and friends to her meant more than to those who have others dearer to them by ties of blood. That evening when Dr. Harry was leaving the house after his visit to his patient, the nurse went with him to the door, as usual, for any word of instruction he might wish to give her privately. "Well, Miss Hope," he said, "you've done it." "What have I done?" she asked, startled. "Saved my patient in there. She would have gone without a doubt, if you had not come when you did. It's your case all right." "Then I'm glad I came," she said quietly. "And I may go back soon now, may I not, Doctor?" He hesitated, slowly drawing on his gloves. "Must you go back Miss Farwell? I--we need you so much here in Corinth. There are so many cases you know where all depends upon the nurse. There is not a trained nurse this side of St. Louis. I am sure I could keep you busy." There was something more than professional interest in the keen eyes that looked so intently into her own. "Thank you Doctor, you are very kind, but you know Dr. Miles expects me. He warned me the last thing before I left, that he was only lending me to you for this particular case. You know how he says those things." "Yes," said the man grimly, "I know Miles. It is one of the secrets of his success, that he will be satisfied with nothing but the best. He warned me, too." He watched her keenly. "It would be just like Miles," he thought, "to tell the young woman of the particular nature of the warning." But Miss Farwell betrayed no embarrassing knowledge, and the doctor said, "You did not promise to return to Chicago did you?" She answered slowly, "No, but he expects me, and I had no thought of staying, only for this case." "Well won't you think of it seriously? There are many nurses in Chicago. I don't mean many like you--" interrupting himself hastily--"but here there is no one at all," and in his low-spoken words there was a note of interest more than professional. She lifted her face frankly and let him look deep into her eyes as she answered--"I appreciate your argument, Dr. Abbott, and--I will think about it."