"Yes. My name is Nurse Johnstone, and I am your nurse. You've had a long sleep, haven't you, dear? Now you've waked up, would you like some nice milk to drink?"
"Y-es," replied Effie, doubtfully. But when the milk came, she liked it very much, it was so cool and rich and sweet. It was brought in a little blue cup, and Effie drank it through a glass tube, because she must not lift her head. There was a bit of white bread to eat besides, but Effie did not care for that. She was drowsy still, and fell asleep as soon as the last mouthful of milk was swallowed.
When she next waked, Nurse Johnstone was there again, with such a good little cupful of hot broth for Effie to eat, and another slice of bread. Effie's head was clearer now, and she felt much more like talking and questioning. The ward was dark and still, only a shaded lamp here and there showed the little ones asleep in their cots.
"This is a nice place I think," said Effie, as she slowly sipped the soup.
"I'm glad you like it," said the nurse, "almost all children do."
"I like you, too," said Effie, with a contented sigh, "and that," pointing to the broth. She had not once asked after her mother; the nurse noticed, and she drew her own inferences.
"Now," she said, after she had smoothed the bed clothes and Effie's hair, and given the pillow a touch or two to make it easier, "now, it would be nice if you would say one little Bible verse for me, and then go to sleep again."
"A verse?" said Effie.
"Yes, a little Bible verse."
"Bible?" repeated Effie, in a puzzled tone.