caution with his courage that makes a man a master and carries him the greatest distance.
I went ahead and finished the papers, and was glad to see by the society column that Mr. and Mrs. John Cuttynge were touring the Lake Country in their sixty horse-power Franco-Helvetia, one of our new cars. I hoped they would stay across the Channel until I finished up my affair with Chu-Chu, as John and I looked too much alike to make it safe for him to knock about Paris.
Then Rosalie stuck her head in to tell me to be good, and was off for the afternoon and maybe most of the night. It struck me that if I had a wife I wouldn't want her to be a chauffeuse. Rosalie was well fitted for the job, because she had that peculiar combination of cheek and good-natured repartee which will take a woman almost anywhere, and can turn a bad intention into a laugh.
I was getting a bit tired of myself when I heard a little rustle and Sœur Anne Marie came in. She gave me a quick, smiling look, then said:
"There is no need to take your temperature, mon ami. Another day of such good behaviour and you can sit up. Now I will dress your arm."
So she went ahead, and I must say she was a master hand at it. The wound, though a nasty one, was so clean that Sœur Anne Marie was surprised.
"My son," said she, "if only your heart were as clean as your blood and tissues you would be a strong worker in God's garden."
"And what makes you think that it is not, ma Mère?" I asked.
"I do not think so," she answered; "but from
