"O, he knows. I told him. He never scolds. He just said that I mustn't do it again until he let me himself, and I haven't. He's an awful nice doctor. He's always playing jokes, ain't he? When I first woke up from the antiseptic, I wanted a drink awfully bad, but Miss Wayne wouldn't let me have a drop of cold water; so when he came in to see me, I asked him for just a swallow, and what do you s'pose he did?"
"I don't know," murmured her companion, still interested in the small patient's prattle in spite of herself.
"Well, he wrote in big letters on a card, 'When you want a drink, remember there is a spring in your bed.' And then he hitched it to the foot-rail where I couldn't help seeing it every time I looked that way. Wasn't that hateful? Of course it made me laugh, and it did help me think of something else when I was so thirsty that it seemed as if I'd dry up if they didn't give me a teenty drink. He knows how to make sick folks well."
"He couldn't make my baby well," the woman blurted out with such bitterness that Peace recoiled, shocked.
"I'll bet he could have, if anyone could," she declared staunchly after her first start of surprise.
"Yes, I suppose so. That is what Ed said," answered the bereft mother more quietly.
"Is Ed your husband?"
"Yes."
"I thought he was dead!"