“Who is she?”
“Don't know, but she sticks to it.”
“It's my daughter,” said Porter, with an effort to rise. “Where is she?”
“Wait,” the Captain said; “I'll speak to her,” and he followed the soldier.
Porter sat still. After a little he heard voices in the waiting room, and Katherine entered the office. At the sight of his worn, haggard face her annoyed expression vanished, and she drew the Captain's chair beside her father's and laid her hand upon his forehead.
“You are sick,” she said gently.
“Nonsense”—he made a feeble effort to shake off her hand—“I asked you not to come back. I'm tired, that's all.”
Katherine rose and looked about.
“Come into the waiting room, dad, and lie down. You must have some sleep or you won't be good for anything.”
“You must go back,” said Porter, shaking his head. “This is no place for you.”