Already word had passed through the ward and even across the way to Lady Truckleford's lot that there was a terrible case at Number Four, gunner officer, named Sanford. It reached Henriette when she was at tea and Helen when she was at her quarters off duty and drawing. The young doctor who had gone for Bricktop met them coming in at the door and noted their startled, anxious faces. Henriette leading, they came down the aisle. When Dr. Smythe, whose form hid Phil, drew aside and Henriette saw what lay against the white pillow she screamed and placed both hands over her eyes to hide the sight and turned away, reeling and shuddering. "Let me go!" she cried, stumbling toward the door. "The screen!" exclaimed Dr. Smythe. Helen, too, had her hands over her eyes; she, too, was shuddering but not moving. She brought her hands down with a kind of wrench, stiffened her chin, and then stepped behind the screen. "Cousin Phil!" she said, striving to keep her voice steady--and she saw that his glazed eyes were sightless. "He is quite deaf from shell-shock, too!" said Dr. Smythe. So this was Helen's cousin; therefore, Henriette's. For a moment she was silent, with deep breaths, as if between impulses, before she dropped down beside the cot. Those hammers could not prevent Phil from knowing that a woman's hand was grasping his, a soft palm and slim fingers were pressing his tight, as if they would send a current of cheer through him. She could do that when he was so monstrous! If only the shell had finished him. With her other hand she was rolling up his sleeve; then she slipped her left hand in place of the right in his. Dr. Smythe and the nurse in attendance looked on in a spell of tragic curiosity. Now Phil felt a finger moving on his arm. Sensitive little nerves--he had never known that there were such sensitive ones--followed the movement and carried the sense of their progress to the brain in spite of the hammers. "I am trying to write so you will understand," she slowly traced the letters. "If you do, two pressures of the hand is yes." "Yes," came the signal. "He does!" said Helen, smiling up to Dr. Smythe in triumph. "Ripping!" he said. She repeated the message aloud, firmly, confidently, as she slowly wrote: "I have good news. You will recover your hearing, speech, and sight completely. We have a miracle man here who will make you whole again, just the same that you were before except for a few little scars that will go away. You must just want to get well, in order to give the miracle man his chance and for the sake of your father and mother and those who love you." And after the last word she hesitated, then wrote the letter "H."