Gavon Keith had been looking full up at Mollie while she was ministering to him. Her touch brought him comfort, the look in her eyes brought him strength. The next instant he encountered eyes like hers, a face like hers, but without the strength, without the power to give comfort. He had a sick feeling all over him that in his heart of hearts he had no welcome for Kitty; and then, weak as he was, he struggled to subdue it. His eyes lit up with a faint smile; but the effort was too much—he fainted away.
"Sit down quietly," said Mollie—"there, in that corner, where he can't see you when he comes to. Of course you shall be with him. But I have no time to ask any questions now.—Miss Hunt, give me the brandy, please, and that bottle of smelling-salts."
Katherine Hunt brought the necessary restoratives, and Mollie bent over the wounded man just as if Kitty did not exist. The faint was a bad one, but after a time he recovered consciousness. Mollie held his hand and stroked it gently.
"Did I dream anything? Was it all a mistake?" he said, in a low whisper.
She bent over him.
"It is no dream," she said. "Your little Kitty, whom you are engaged to marry, is here. She has come out all the way from England for love of you. She has encountered grave danger and difficulty and the possibility either of death or imprisonment all for love of you. She will stay by you part of to-night. Welcome her, won't you?"
"Kitty!" said the wounded man; and then Kitty bent forward, and he smiled at her, this time without fainting.
After this incident Kitty Hepworth was established as one of the extra nurses in the central hospital. Mollie secured her this post, and on the whole it did her good. There was no time in Ladysmith for fainting or hysterics. The minor ills of life had to be put out of sight, for the men and women in that town were face to face with a great tragedy.