An involuntary smile crossed the woman’s face, and she turned her head aside.
“Are you going to attend the funeral?” she asked.
“Mrs. Pelham wishes it. I would do anything to please her—poor soul.”
Clara Ives smiled again.
“What is the matter with you?” Tarbot continued. “When I speak of the funeral of a child who has died in his babyhood, a child whose life meant much and whose mother is broken-hearted, it seems strange that you should smile.”
“There are hidden nerves which one cannot always control,” said the nurse with an air of wisdom.
“Oh, come, Clara, you need not talk science to me.”
“Of course not. You know a great deal more than I do.”
“And yet you are very well informed for a nurse.”
“That is true. Remember, I was with Dr. Weismann in Paris for a year.”