"Oh, I think that did decide me," she said. "It was one of his strongest sermons, I think, and it came just when I was feeling so sick of doing nothing in particular. He was speaking, you know, of the beauty of the Christian ideal of living for the good of others; and he gave as an example, the life of a hospital nurse, and how happy she might always be in realizing the truth of the words, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it to one or the least of these, ye have done it unto Me.' I think it was that that decided me."
"But now," said Miss Spencer, after a short silence, "I suppose you don't know much about this poor young woman?"
"No," said Nora; "but I'm sure she has a history."
"So am I! One or two things she said made me suspect a romance of some kind. I notice that her wedding ring is very massive, and she has a habit of fingering it in a caressing sort of way."
"Poor thing! I suppose she's a widow."
"She wouldn't say, and I couldn't press her. It seemed to pain her to talk about it. My impression is that she is not; but of course that is merely an impression."
"The child is passionately fond of music," said Nora. "I shouldn't wonder if she turned out to be a musical genius."
"Possibly, then, her father may have been one of those professionals who seem so lax in their matrimonial ideas, and desert their wives so easily.—At least, I've heard of such cases," she added. "I suppose the 'artistic temperament' as they call it, has a tendency to forsake ordinary lines."
"It's queer," said Nora, thoughtfully. "One would think music should always be an elevating influence."
"I'm sure it is, at its best," said Janet. "But it has another side, like most things."