"You?"
Beatrix's dark eyes rested lovingly upon the sister's pale face.
"You are tired out already, sister; you were up all night."
"But I am accustomed to that, my dear," Sister Angela returned, firmly; "and I find that the very best way to be of use in this place is to husband your strength, and keep some always in reserve. Go now, my child. You do not know what may lie before you ere this night is done."
Were her words prophetic? Looking back upon them afterward, Beatrix could almost believe them so. She went slowly away, however, for she would not disobey the kind sister; and as Beatrix went slowly down-stairs, Sister Angela took her place by the old woman's side. Not until she had reached the foot of the stairs did the girl realize how very weak she was.
"Sister Angela is right," she said to herself. "My strength is not sufficient to keep up as she does. That will come in time."
She went to the room where she had been directed, and after she had drunk a cup of tea and partaken of some refreshment she felt better. She was about to return to her task, when there was a loud ring at the door-bell, followed by a bustle and confusion in the entrance hall.
"Another case, I suppose," commented the girl, and she hastened into the hall just as one of the assistants came hastily to meet her.
"An accident!" she announced briefly. "A man has been thrown from his horse right in front of the door; so, of course, he was brought in here, and Heaven knows we have scarcely room enough to receive any more. The affair of yesterday has filled our wards to overflowing."