A knock at her door roused her from half-sleep and meditation to full wakening. Kate Waddington had entered--Kate, transformed into a picturesque imitation of a nurse. She was all in grass linen, the collar rolled away to show her round, golden throat. Her flowing tie was blue, and a blue bow completed the knot of her hair. She looked cool, efficient, domestically business-like. "He's better!" Kate burst out with the news as Eleanor turned her head. "There's really no danger now. The nurse says that he roused this morning and showed a positively vicious temper because they would not let him see anyone." "That's pleasant news. I was sure that he would recover." Eleanor caught an unconsidered expression, no more than a glint and a drooping, in Kate's eyes. This answer, so calm, so entirely unemotional, had touched curiosity if nothing more. But Kate chirped on: "I'm playing Mama's little household fairy--how do you like the way I dress the part? I sent for these clothes last night. Now you're to lie abed and let me bring you your breakfast. Are you rested, dear? It was enough to kill two women!" "Quite rested, I think." Kate opened the window, bustled about putting the room to rights. "Shall I bring your coffee now?" she asked at last. "Yes, thank you." Kate was back in ten minutes with table and tray. Whatever she did had an individuality, a touch. That tray, for example--nothing could have been better conceived to tempt the appetite. She set out the breakfast and remained to pour coffee and to talk. "And isn't it good--mustn't you be thankful--that it won't leave him lame or disfigured or anything like that! His shoulder may be weak, but what does a man need of shoulders after he's quit football?" Eleanor just glanced over her coffee-cup, but she made no answer. Kate turned her course. "Won't you let me open your egg for you?" "No, thank you." Then, "You're very kind, Kate." "I am the original ray of light. Do let me fix those pillows. You're going to lie in bed all the morning, you know. Shall I bring you the papers? You should see them! They've got you a heroine." "Me!" Now Eleanor showed animation. "Oh, not you. We've all kept the secret well. You're a mystery, a pretty shop-girl to the rescue. I hope the weeklies don't find the real story." "I hope so." Kate rose, made another pretense at setting things right in the room, and moved toward the door. A relief, a lowering of tension, came over Eleanor. But at the threshold, Kate turned.