“Are you going to be a nurse?” asked Emma at length.
“Oh no! What made you think that?”
“Because you nursed Captain—I mean Sir Henry—Graves so wonderfully,” Emma answered, colouring. “Dr. Childs told me he believed that you saved his life.”
“Then I have done something in the world,” said Joan, with a little laugh; “but it is the first that I have heard of it.”
“Really! Haven’t they thanked you?”
“Somebody offered to pay me, if you mean that, miss.”
“No, no; I didn’t mean it. I meant that we are all grateful to you, so very grateful—at least, his family are. Then what do you intend to do when you go away?” she asked, changing the subject suddenly.
“I don’t know, miss. Earn my living as best I can—as a shop girl probably.”
“It seems rather terrible starting by oneself out into the unknown, like this. Does it not frighten you?”
“Perhaps it does,” answered Joan; “but beggars cannot be choosers. I can’t stop here, where I have nothing to do; and, you see, I am alone in the world.”