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Still, he was badly enough as it was. The new nurse smoothed out
his pillows and deftly tried to conceal as much as she could that
would suggest how badly he was injured and at last Violet Winslow
was allowed to enter the room where the poor boy lay.
Miss Winslow never for a moment let her wonderful self-control
fail her. Quickly and noiselessly, like a ministering angel, she
seemed to float rather than walk over the space from the door to
the bed.
As she bent over him and whispered, "Mortimer!" the simple tone
seemed to have an almost magic effect on him.
He opened his eyes which before had been languidly closed and
gazed up at her face as if he saw a vision. Slowly the expression
on his face changed as he realized that it was indeed Violet
herself. In spite of the pain of his hurts which must have been
intense a smile played over his features, as if he realized that
it would never do to let her know how serious had been his
condition.
As she bent over her hand had rested on the white covers of the
bed.


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