At another moment she could not have spoken out her heart's affection in such a manner, shyness and custom would have prevented it; but now something seemed to demand it, her allegiance to Fabien, she thought. Max Deshoulieres, looking at her reverently, said, within himself, "I pray, I pray to Heaven, she is not judging him from her own capacities only." Nannon was silent, as people are when some strong feeling makes itself known in their presence; Therese was resolute and decided, her step light, she did not look like one who would consent to change; and M. Deshoulieres, if he had been moved, was quiet again. All the old woman could do was to ask to share the nursing; and, finally, she gained permission to become a sort of medium of communication between the hospital and the outer world, to fetch what was needed, and carry messages to a house about a kilometre away, where convalescents were tended by one of the trained sisters. After which M. Deshoulieres, who felt an uncomfortable conviction that he had been persuaded against his judgment and his wishes, fetched another sister, and delivered Therese into her keeping. "No work to-night, remember," was his last order as he hurried away. "Then you will be on day duty," said the Sister, kissing her at once, and looking at the pretty young face with a little brisk wonder. "That is best. You shall sleep with me and with Sister Gabrielle. We want more nurses sadly, only--my child, I look at you because you are so young, and I wonder. Did your mother let you come?--ah, ah, I guess what you would say. You are right. Yes, there were many of the blessed saints younger than you; let me see, there was S. Lucy, S. Faith, S. Prisca--"