Vr-iii;i, VflVa rRK'"? 'simi&jfim,jm,9r& pMWu4t. )MiJf Nurse Ray to Nurse Rensham indig nantly, the next morning. "At least, she ought to have been here today." "She doesn't know!" The other looked at her scornfully. "Of course she knows. She's waiting to learn the result of the operation." She came that afternoon, a tall, proud-looking beauty, asking for the little gentleman. She had just learn ed, she said, that he had undergone an operation. She did not know what it was. He was a friend of hers she was distressed. Nurse Rensham took her apart. Women can be cruder to each other than men when it is needful, and Nurse Rensham thought Edith Car stairs was a hypocrite. She broke the news to her with a few burning words that made Edith Carstairs gasp, and then shook her into passionate sob bing. She had not known, she had not dreamed, she said. She did not know that the little gentleman had ever cared for her like that. The nurse was half convinced.almost convinced when she took Miss Carstairs to the little gentleman's bedside for a mo ment and saw her kneel and press his white hand to her lips. But she was not sure. "He shall never marry her until I know," Nurse Rensham said. The little gentleman was the dear est patient they had ever had in the hospital. He never complained, though the pain of the cramped posi tion ate into the flesh, and muscle and sinew. After five weeks the sur geon began to talk of taking off the bandages and uncasing him. "Nobody knows whether it has been successful," he told Miss Car stairs, who had been a regular vis itor. The two had been loverlike enough, but Nurse Rensham was still scornful. "She thinks he will get well she's waiting," she told her self bitterly. The morning when the bandages were to be removed arrived, Nurse Rensham had said nothing to Miss Carstairs; she met her at the door. - "Will you come in here a moment, please," said, motioning to her to enter the drug room. There she told her. The operation had failed. The little gentleman would be more hopelessly crppled i than before. The nurse's face was white and resolute. Her eyes gleamed K vindictively. "Now let me see fhat. mettle you are made of!" she seemed v to say. 3 Edith Carstairs gasped and reeled , back against the wall. Then she turned and ran swiftly down the pas- t sage toward the elevator. But Nurse ? Rensham caught her before shecoukLj enter. 7 "I knew what you were made of, j you worthless woman!" she hissed, , "You couldn't bear to have the love , of a good man because he was crook-i j ed in body. You have turned from him now that you know he will al-.j ways be thus." ' j Edith Carstairs straightened her-0 self and looked at the nurse with a new dignity. ) 1 ran away uecause iue uiuw j stunned me!" she answered. "It was not because I cared for myself. I cared for him. Can't you under- stand, can't you realize that a wo4 man who loves a man will never dare to look upon him in his soul's agony, because she cannot bear it on his ac count?" ) "No. I can't!" answered Nurse s Rensham. o "Then come with me!" cried Ed ith Carstairs fiercely. She seized the nurse by the arm and almost dragged her into the lit- tie gentleman's room. 1 "Tell them!" she cried. "Tell them now, because they doubted my love j and loyalty. Tell them! See!" 1 She was thrusting something fiercely upon her finger. It was a wedding ring. She stood up bravely i by the bedside, confronting all the, nurses in the room. "I am his wife'",, she cried. "I married him before he i