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To-night they are shorthanded, and have put me on this duty."
While she was speaking, she continued to smile, a smile of radiant cheer
and courage.
The wounded man listened gravely to her, his eyes searching her face,
her eyes, her very soul, it seemed to her. In spite of her experience
and her self-control, she felt her face flushing under his searching
gaze.
"My dear," he said at length, "I am glad to meet you. You are a good and
brave girl, I know." His eyes fell upon the black band upon her arm. "I
see you are wearing the badge of heroism. My dear, pardon me, you
have the same look--Barry, she has your dear mother's look, not so
beautiful--you will forgive me, my dear--but the same look. She thinks
of others and she has courage to suffer. My dear, I cannot take your
hands in mine,"--he glanced with a pathetic smile at his bandaged arms,
but with a swift movement of indescribable grace the girl stooped and
kissed him on the forehead.
"Barry," he said, turning to his son, "that was a fine courtesy.


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