And I _am_ getting stronger, slowly; ain't I, nurse ?' "One morning he called out to her, as usual, asking her how she was, and she answered, though she had to wait for a few seconds to gather strength to do so.

He seemed to detect the effort, for he called back anxiously, 'Are you _sure_ you're all right, dear ?' "'Yes,' she replied, 'getting on famously.

Why ?' "'I thought your voice sounded a little weak, dear,' he answered; 'don't call out if it tries you.' "Then for the first time she began to worry about herself--not for her own sake, but because of him.
"'Do you think I _am_ getting weaker, nurse ?' she asked me, fixing her great eyes on me with a frightened look.
"'You're making yourself weak by calling out,' I answered, a little sharply.

'I shall have to keep that door shut.' "'Oh, don't tell him'-- that was all her thought--'don't let him know it.
Tell him I'm strong, won't you, nurse?
It will kill him if he thinks I'm not getting well.' "I was glad when her sister came up, and I could get out of the room, for you're not much good at nursing when you feel, as I felt then, as though you had swallowed a tablespoon and it was sticking in your throat.
"Later on, when I went in to him, he drew me to the bedside, and whispered me to tell him truly how she was.

If you are telling a lie at all, you may just as well make it a good one, so I told him she was really wonderfully well, only a little exhausted after the illness, as was natural, and that I expected to have her up before him.
"Poor lad! that lie did him more good than a week's doctoring and nursing; and next morning he called out more cheerily than ever to her, and offered to bet her a new bonnet against a new hat that he would race her, and be up first.
"She laughed back quite merrily (I was in his room at the time).