He was able to converse a little with Dr. Hunt, who had worked so faithfully to save him, when he made his last round for the night. He told him that he was a physician from New York city, and had come to Boston at the invitation of a brother physician, to visit the various hospitals of the city, and they had planned to come that very day to the institution where he was now a patient. He said that he feared his friend must be suffering great anxiety upon his account, as he had agreed to meet him at his office at nine o’clock that morning, and he would not know where to look for him, as he had sent him no word at what hotel he would stop. Dr. Hunt, appreciating the situation, at once dispatched a messenger to Dr. Cutler, who came early the next morning to the sick man. But though Dr. Winthrop steadily improved, he was not able to leave his bed for several days; his system had been so poisoned by the noxious gas that it took time to eradicate it. Meantime, he inquired and learned all about the circumstances attending his critical condition and his almost marvellous restoration. “That noble girl!” he had exclaimed, upon being told how willingly, even eagerly, Salome Howland had given up her life-blood for him. “She will have my everlasting gratitude. Who is she, and where can I find her when I am able to get away from here?” “She is one of our nurses,” Dr. Hunt replied, “a young woman of remarkable nerve and strength of character, and eminently fitted for the life she has chosen.” From this brief description, Dr. Winthrop gained the impression that Salome might have been some strong-minded, rather masculine woman, of perhaps twenty-five or thirty years, with a heart and brain entirely devoted to the study and practice of her profession. He meant to see her as soon as he was able to leave his room, express his hearty gratitude for the priceless boon she had bestowed upon him, and assure her of his readiness to befriend her or hers to the extent of his power, if she should ever require the services of a friend. How soon and how strangely such a requirement would be forced on him, he did not dream, neither could he have any suspicion how vitally these incidents were to affect his whole future life. CHAPTER III. DR. WINTHROP BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH SALOME. Meantime, how fared it with the heroic young nurse, who had so trustfully surrendered herself into the hands of Dr. Hunt, and sacrificed so much to save the life of another? Pale as a snow-flake, and weak as an infant from the loss of blood, of which the physician, in his eagerness to make sure of the life he was trying to save, had taken a more generous supply than was perhaps wise—she lay in a large sunny room, tenderly cared for by an efficient nurse, and closely and anxiously watched by Dr. Hunt.