"Yes, I have a great deal to do," said Kitty, in a cross voice. "But do you want anything?" she added.
"I thought maybe, miss, I might dictate a letter to my young woman, so be as you'd write it for me. I don't mind saying out my mind afore you, miss."
Kitty hesitated.
"I will write it for you after dinner," she said.
"I may not be so well then, miss. I ain't been the thing to-day, My mind keeps wandering, and I shouldn't be surprised if I had a touch of enteric. I feel like it, somehow."
"Oh, you are getting on very well," said Kitty. "You are just nervous.—Isn't Lawson just nervous, Sister Eugenia?"
Sister Eugenia came up to Lawson's bed and looked at him.
"You don't seem quite comfortable," she said. "What do you complain of? Ankle very painful?"
"Yes, rather," said the poor fellow.
"I am afraid, Lawson, you must submit to amputation," said Sister Eugenia. "It is sharp and short, and puts things right."