Hilda helped to make the
old man comfortable.
When at last the General drifted into slumber, the two went down
together. The hall clock pointed to four.
They stood at the foot of the great stairway. From the landing the
painted lady smiled at them.
"Hilda, I am going to France."
She expressed no surprise. "When did you make up your mind?"
"In a sense it is not made up. I think I am waiting for you to confirm
my decision. They want me at the head of a hospital staff, to deal
with cases of shock. I should like to have you in charge of my nurses."
She meditated. "I am not sure that I care to go."
He showed his surprise. "I understood that if I went, you would go--"
"I don't think I said that."
"Perhaps not. But it didn't occur to me that you would back out." His
voice showed the irritation of a man balked in the thing he wants.
"I haven't backed out. I don't know what I want to do. I have to
think it over."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "What made you change your mind?"
"I like to be comfortable. And it isn't comfortable over there."
"For Heaven's sake, Hilda--don't make yourself out as selfish as that.
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