"But you know how badly I behaved to-day. I was so selfish I would not go back to the hospital in time to receive poor Lawson's message."
"Perhaps he is able to give it himself now," said Mollie.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing—it is only a thought; he may be able himself to convey the comfort he wanted to give to his poor sweetheart. Anyhow, Kitty, there is no looking back over that. In Ladysmith we have no time to look back. There are other poor fellows with sweethearts and mothers and sisters—others who are either dying now or who will have to die before this terrible siege is over—and you can comfort them."
As Mollie spoke she clasped Kitty in her arms, and laid the girl's tired, frightened head on her breast. There came another sharp, very sharp report, and the searchlight suddenly lit up the windows of Kitty's room. She gave a terrified scream.
"I wish I had never come to Ladysmith. I wish I could get away."
"Too late for that now; you are a little soldier, and must stand to your guns."
"I am a coward; I am the sort of soldier who runs away," said the girl.
Mollie was silent until the noise of the explosion ceased; then she said quietly,—
"This may mean more patients for me; I must hurry off again. What did you really want with me?"