"Mr. Davis! I must go and nurse Mr. Bellingham," said she at
last, clenching her hands tight together; but no other part of
her body moving from its intense stillness.
"Mr. Bellingham?" asked he, astonished at the name.
"Mr. Donne, I mean," said she hurriedly. "His name was
Bellingham."
"Oh! I remember hearing he had changed his name for some
property. But you must not think of any more such work just now.
You are not fit for it. You are looking as white as ashes."
"I must go," she repeated.
"Nonsense! Here's a man who can pay for the care of the first
hospital nurses in London--and I doubt if his life is worth the
risk of one of theirs even, much more of yours."
"We have no right to weigh human lives against each other."
"No! I know we have not. But it's a way we doctors are apt to get
into; and, at any rate, it's ridiculous of you to think of such a
thing. Just listen to reason."
"I can't! I can't!" cried she, with a sharp pain in her voice.
"You must let me go, dear Mr. Davis!" said she, now speaking with
soft entreaty. "No!" said he, shaking his head authoritatively.
"I'll do no such thing." "Listen!" said she, dropping her voice,
and going all over the deepest scarlet; "he is Leonard's father!
Now! you will let me go!" Mr. Davis was indeed staggered by what
she said, and for a moment he did not speak. So she went on--
"You will not tell! You must not tell! No one knows, not even Mr.
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