have loved her for her beautiful, noble, impulsive, generous self, and, if that be an offence, I can only say that I am proud to acknowledge it.
But though I was over head and ears in love with her, seeing no sun in heaven when she was not with me, no stars at night when I was not by her side, never once did I allow her to suspect my passion. I did my work as I had contracted to do it—that is, to the best of my ability. But hard as I worked, she worked harder. Day in, day out, she was never idle; she took her share of nursing, superintended the erection of huts and houses for those who had been deprived of them, and cheered and encouraged everyone with whom she came in contact. Beautiful White Devil, the Chinese called her. Beautiful White Angel would surely have been a better and more appropriate name.
