"Not to kill yourself. You have almost killed yourself, Lois."
"I couldn't help it."
"Yes, you could. You make duty a kind of iron thing."
"Not iron," said Lois; she spoke slowly and faintly, but now she smiled. "It is golden!"
"That don't help. Chains of gold may be as hard to break as chains of iron."
"Who wants them broken?" said Lois, in the same slow, contented way.
"Duty? Why Madge, it's the King's orders!"
"Do you mean that you were ordered to go to that place, and then to nurse those children through the fever?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I should be terribly afraid of duty, if I thought it came in such shapes. There's the train!—Now if you can get downstairs—"
That was accomplished, though with tottering steps, and Lois was safely seated in one of the cars, and her head pillowed upon the back of the seat. There was no more talking then for some time. Only when Haarlem bridge was past and New York close at hand, Lois spoke.