Claude M. Girardeau

“ Waxe. I do not like to have anything 'hanging over me,' even if it is the counterfeit presentment of a saint."
An ugly sneer disfigured her delicate lips for a moment.
"I will have it taken down as soon as possible," said the head nurse; "but it cannot be done immediately, my dear. We have sent out all the nurses we can spare, and extra beds have been put in nearly every ward. I am too heavy to risk myself on a ladder, but I will see the superintendent about it after a bit. It is well fastened up, I assure you." ”

“ Men were lost and frozen to death in the streets while going from their business houses to their homes.
A lady attempting to alight from a carriage at one of the railroad stations, in order to make an outgoing train , slipped, or was blown down upon the icy pavement. She was taken up insensible and carried to the nearest hospital.
"I do not think we have even a corner vacant," said the superintendent; "but of course she cannot leave the building now."
She sent for Mrs. Waxe.
"The Prince Ward is unoccupied?"
The head nurse glanced at the stretcher and hesitated. ”

“ Waxe came in, weary, but the embodiment of strength and kindness.
"I think," she said coaxingly, "you must try and get to sleep. I shall give you something to quiet you, and then turn off the liglit, and I hope you will soon drop off. I shall be near you in the corridor. If you want anything just tinkle the bell. Close to hand, you see, my dear."
She administered a draught, straightened the pillow, then bent down impulsively and kissed the lovely, disquieted face maternally. Two beautiful arms closed about her ample neck, and the patient was sobbing on her generous bosom. ”

“ Then the ashes settled slowly upon the lifeless body, upon the scattered roses on the floor, and upon the splendid furs of the man who shrank against the wall and put up his hands against the dreadful sight. ”

“ She went to the room of the head nurse and woke her.
"Say, Mrs. Waxe, who's the patient in the Prince Ward? Why wasn't I told about her?" Mrs. Waxe was wide awake instantly.
"Prince Ward? There's nobody in the Prince Ward, Miss Hall."
"Yes, there is, too. I've just seen her and spoke to her. Seems to me I've seen the woman before. But the one I knew died after the operation."
"What?" asked Mrs. Waxe keenly. She had been in the hospital only six months, but she was a personal friend of Miss Evans. "Who was she?" Miss Hall gave a brief account of the case. ”

“ In a sick-bed for the first time in her life, strapped immovably to its narrow confines, her head beginning to throb with agony, she lay suffocating with impatience, suspense, and apprehension, she,—the spoiled darling of every good fortune. ”

“ She's more hair than anything else."
The morning of the operation found Mrs. Prince cold with nervous terror.
"Do you think I will suffer much?" she inquired of the nurse tremulously.
"Oh, no, indeed," replied that functionary, with professional cheerfulness, plaiting away at the endless lengths of hair. "If I was you, I'd have about half of this cut off."
Mrs. Prince looked at the long, heavy plaits, then up at the nurse, her gray eyes darkening.
"If you cannot take care of it," she said quietly, "I will tell the superintendent to send me another woman."
The nurse colored. ”

“ Madame Kanaris came into the ward alone, and stood for a few moments looking down at the face on the narrow pillow.
"She could never have recovered in any event?" she said questioningly to the nurse. ”

“ Prince pathetically, as the nurse took her back to her room.
"Guess she hasn't looked in a glass lately," was the attendant's unspoken comment.
"She looks for all the world like a starved cat," she said to another nurse, later on, "with her big green eyes and her black hair. Won't I have a sweet time combing all that hair? ”

“ The nurse colored and snapped the scissors vigorously through the last strands of hair. The thick, short locks stuck out stiftly behind the dead woman's ears. The nurse held out the snakelike braids to Madame Kanaris, who drew back a little. ”

“ The operation was long, difficult, and dangerous, taxing both nerve and skill. The operating-room was very hot. One of the nurses fainted, and a young doctor, sick at heart and stomach, helped her away, glad to get out himself.
The operating surgeon, a keen, self-possessed practitioner, looked at the patient when all was over, with a deep breath of relief. ”