At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 200: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

>. = ' i '* “ie * i < 4 7% AT A GIRLS MERCY. 189 ——_ day and not know what might fall upon her at any time. He was kindly, this man at her side, and he would tell her as no one else could just what she should do for the help of her father. She was sure she could trust him. She could not be misled by the kindly mouth and the searching eyes when she had seen day after day his kindness and thoughtful- ness of those coming under his care. He was a fa- ther himself, she knew, for he had told her consider- able of himself as they worked or sat together, the man so tall and strong and broad shouldered, the lit- tle lady so small and dimpled and sweet. He could not but be kind to her when he should know what was done to her father, and he would devise some manner for her to release him if there should be such a hope. She was beginning to think there was no hope for her any more, there had so much of ‘sadness come into her life with the passing months. Lhe summer had brought her nothing but pain, and. here was the winter coming on, and she was so sorry, for there would be more horrible suffering than she would dare to think of. But there must come an’end to all things, even the | hardest to bear, and so there came an end to Nan’s waiting, and she stood out in the open air with the cool winds lifting the soft curls from her pale face as she lifted her frank eyes to the face of her friend, and asked her faltering question that she could scarcely gain courage to ask, the answer might be so terrible. But it was out at last, and she was wait- ing for the answer. ‘*You poor child,’’ the surgeon said, and the eyes, that had been so steady even when he knew he was | using that terrible knife for the good of the sufferer, were not so steady now, for he could not meet un- flinchingly the wistful,.wide eyes, the hue of the bluest October sky there had ever been, and the lips were trying to be so brave to answer should there | be need for their answering. ‘‘You poor, tired out, hurt little girl. If you were my daughter, in spite of the brightness of having you here to comfort my soldiers, 1 would pack you off this minute to the home care and the home love that you are starving Eomicbooks:. co