“Why?” said Grace steadily. “That is just what I cannot see. Nobody could wish mamma to come now. What good would it do? It would be dreadful for her;--and to him--to him!----” Here, brave as she was, she had to stop, and could not say any more. “Of course,” said the doctor softly, “your father is beyond all need. He is safe now, whatever happens; but you--what can you do? Somebody must come at once to take care of you, to take you home.” Once more Milly’s eyes travelled from Grace to the doctor, and back again. To have some one to take care of them sounded to Milly the only thing that was left on earth to desire. “No one,” said Grace, wondering at her own calm, “could be here for a fortnight; and the first days will be the worst. After that things will be easier. Don’t you see, everything that can happen will have happened then; and why should some one--for it could not be mamma now, Milly; it would not be mamma: why should some one be disturbed and made uncomfortable, and forced to start at a moment’s notice, only to take care of us? I can take care of Milly, and we can go home.” Another pause till the tears were swallowed somehow. “It will be less hard, on the whole, to go home by ourselves, than with any one else.” The doctor was struck by this argument. He looked at them anxiously, fragile as they were, looking like shadows of girls after the long anxiety and strain of these ten days. “Do you think,” he said, doubtful, “that you are able for it?” “Able!” said Grace with the petulance of grief. “What is there to be able for now? We have borne the worst. If it had been a week ago, and I had known what was coming, I should have said, No, we were not able. But now!” the girl cried with a kind of disdain, “now we have suffered all that can be suffered, doctor. We can never lose our father again.” Here Milly broke out into hysterical cries. “Oh, papa, papa! Oh, Grace! What shall we do? What shall we do?” Grace took her sister into her arms standing by the bedside, while the other sat up, her hair hanging about her, her face distraught with a passion of grief over which she had no control. The tears rained from Grace’s eyes, but she stood firm as a rock. “We must bear it,” she said; “we must bear it, Milly. We cannot have that to bear again. We will not make it harder for mamma.” This scene upset the kind doctor for the day; he could not give his attention to the other cases which awaited him for thinking of this heartrending picture. And as for the nurse, whose services were imperatively demanded for another “case”--she could not bear to take leave of them at all, but stole away as if she had done them a wrong. “How could any woman with a heart in her bosom leave them in their trouble?” she said, sobbing, to the doctor; “but I am not a woman, I am only a nurse----” “And there is a life to be preserved,” the doctor said. The woman, after all, was only a woman, petulant and unreasonable.