"All my glory is coming at once!" she faltered.
"Glory? Well, you are a queer girl. To stand for hours under that man's eye! You call it glory? Why, it is an honour because it is that man, that eye; but as to glory! My dear Miss Glynn, I must insist that you go off this afternoon and play—somewhere. Then come back and get a good night's rest. The life of the richest man in New York will hang in the balance to-morrow, and not even the glorified nurse can afford to have a trembling hand when she passes up an instrument or wipes the perspiration from the surgeon's brow."
"Thank you, oh! thank you, Mrs. Thomas! Of course, if I were not so stupid I could make you understand how I feel. I seem to have found the right way, and everything is conspiring to tell me so. You see, I might not have qualified; some girls do not. No one might have noticed me; you might not have been so kind. Often I am rather lonely and ungrateful; but you must try to believe that I am—very happy now."
"I suppose"—Mrs. Thomas was holding the radiant young face with her clear, calm eyes—"I suppose you are one of those natures that craves success; cannot brook defeat. Life will deal harshly with you."
"I am willing to suffer. It is the learning I must have. It is the chance to learn that makes me so glad," Priscilla burst in, "and it's this sure feeling that I am on the right trail."
"There is a difference. But somehow the career of a nurse is so—well—difficult, and—hard," Mrs. Thomas went on. "I wonder how you can approach it with your enthusiasm undaunted after months of service."
"I do not know, but it seems my road to what is mine. It gets me so near people—when they most need me—are so glad to have me! There seems to be nothing between me—and them. I love it, oh! I love it, Mrs. Thomas!"
"See here, Miss Glynn, where are you going this afternoon?"
"I do not know; just—going."
"I wish—dear me! I do wish you could go somewhere; do something shockingly frivolous."