"If I was you," she said mechanically, "I'd have about half of this cut off."
Two large dark eyes stared up at her.
"Why!" she stammered, too stupid to know when she was frightened, too trained a nurse to understand, "Why, you died!"
A low langh echoed in the room.
"How cold you are in here," the nurse went on. "What will you have?"
"Water," said the thick voice inarticulately.
The nurse went out. As she closed the door behind her she was seized with a sudden cold shaking.
She went to the room of the head nurse and woke her.
"Say, Mrs. Waxe, who's the patient in the Prince Ward? Why wasn't I told about her?" Mrs. Waxe was wide awake instantly.
"Prince Ward? There's nobody in the Prince Ward, Miss Hall."
"Yes, there is, too. I've just seen her and spoke to her. Seems to me I've seen the woman before. But the one I knew died after the operation."
"What?" asked Mrs. Waxe keenly. She had been in the hospital only six months, but she was a personal friend of Miss Evans. "Who was she?" Miss Hall gave a brief account of the case.
"What was her name?" inquired Mrs. Waxe, sitting up, large and alert.
"Why, it was Prince," said the night nurse. "She was the wife of the man who endowed the ward."
Mrs. Waxe gazed for a moment into the stolid face before her.
"I think you have had a dream," she said calmly.
"I don't sleep on duty, whatever the others may do," retorted Miss Hall.
Mrs. Waxe lumbered out of bed, untying her cap strings.
"Go back to the floor," she said quietly. "I'll be coming to you after a bit."
She dressed quickly and presently waddled into the corridor.
"Now, you go and get to sleep in my room, Miss Hall, and I'll be taking your place to-night."
