"Well, since you are going to be around here we may as well get acquainted—I shall probably have plenty of calls at the station. I see you are the whole service outfit. The telephone, telegraph, and, I suppose, the—Press Bureau."
"Oh, yes," replied Tavia, not grasping the sarcasm of the "Press" remark. "Uncle Sam has a great deal to attend to."
The nurse laughed to show her pretty teeth, Tavia thought. She was pretty, and her immaculate white linen was immensely becoming.
"My name is—Bell—Mary Bell," she said, "and yours is——"
"Betsy Dixon," replied Tavia. (Oh, what a tangled web we weave!)
"What a charming name—Betsy Dixon! Quite like a—bullet from Molly Pitcher's gun," said the nurse. Tavia smiled but failed to catch the significance of that remark. Betsy was a good old name. Why like a war bullet?
"Here is the station agent," said Tavia, as Sam limped back. "Uncle Sam, have you seen the carriage from the sanitarium?"
Tavia could not overlook the joy in that name—Uncle Sam. It was so simple, and so mouth-fitting.
"Here it comes," replied Sam, also noting how nicely Tavia fell into her role. "But is this the new nurse? I have an important message for Miss Bennet. That's her—in the carriage."
"Miss Bennet! Why, she's my classmate! I never expected to find her, out here in the hills," spoke the stranger.