"And you seriously mean to help the nurses?"
"Yes, seriously. Isn't the lotion rather cold?"
"No; it does very nicely. Please don't dab the sponge quite so hard against my leg. Ah! that is better. You would make quite a good nurse if you practised, Kitty."
"I mean to try," answered Kitty, encouraged and cheered by his words of praise.
"But you ought not to wear rings or bracelets."
"Don't you like me to wear my rings?" she said, her lips quivering as she raised a perfectly childish face to his.
"Anything you fancy, little girl."
"I am sure this is too cold now," she said.
He did not reply. She threw the used-up lotion away, and made a fresh one. She was very ignorant, and he was as much so. Instead of two or three drops, she put in a liberal supply of Condy. The water also was hot—too hot for the inflamed leg. She filled the sponge, and put it on. Keith, in spite of himself, uttered a cry. Then he bit his lip and turned very white.
"I don't think, somehow, that is quite right," he said, and he had scarcely uttered the words before he fainted away. Kitty's lotion had burned his wound badly.