Porter sat still. After a little he heard voices in the waiting room, and Katherine entered the office. At the sight of his worn, haggard face her annoyed expression vanished, and she drew the Captain's chair beside her father's and laid her hand upon his forehead. “You are sick,” she said gently. “Nonsense”--he made a feeble effort to shake off her hand--“I asked you not to come back. I'm tired, that's all.” Katherine rose and looked about. “Come into the waiting room, dad, and lie down. You must have some sleep or you won't be good for anything.” “You must go back,” said Porter, shaking his head. “This is no place for you.” Katherine looked quietly into his eyes. It was not the first time that the strain of his busy life had told upon her father's nerves, and she knew what was the matter. “Come, dad,” she said. “Get a little sleep, and I'll stay by and wake you if there is any news.” Porter scowled, then slowly rose. The Captain, who had been hesitating in the doorway, came forward to assist. Porter turned on him savagely. “Let me alone. I can walk, I guess.” But at a glance from Katherine the Captain took an arm, and Porter submitted, seemingly unconscious of his inconsistency. Along the walls of the waiting room were benches, and on one of these they tried to make Porter comfortable. When she saw that his head must rest on the wooden seat, Katherine hesitated and looked at the Captain, who was following her with his eyes. “I wish there was something for a pillow,” she said. “Perhaps”--she stood erect and looked slowly about the waiting room, then stepped to the door of the office, returning with a pretty frown. “I wonder”--she met the Captain's gaze smiling frankly--“if you would let me take your coat.” He was not an old officer, and he was not a hermit, so with but slight hesitation he unbuckled his belt, removed the coat, rolled it up, and as Katherine raised her father's head he slipped it underneath. “Will you send one of your men to a drug store for some camphor?” said Katherine, fumbling in the purse that hung from her belt. The Captain beckoned to one of the soldiers who were clustered about the door, and placed him at Katherine's disposal. When he returned she soaked her handkerchief with the camphor and laid it on her father's forehead. He was already asleep. “He'll be better as soon as he has had a little rest,” Katherine said. “You are very good to help us.” The Captain bowed with the expression of a man who has just been promoted, but said nothing.