There was indeed a heroic aspect to it, a
spiritual aspect, and this plain little woman was setting the pace.
And Hilda, coming in, would spoil it all. Oh, he knew how she would
spoil it. With her mocking laugh, her warped judgments, her skeptical
point of view.
No, he did not want Hilda. The best in him did not want her, and
please God, he was giving his best to this cause. However he might
fail in other things, he would not fail in his high duty towards the
men who came out of battle shattered and broken, holding up their hands
to him for help.
"I am going to let Miss Shelby have the case," the plain little nurse
was saying, "when he begins to come back. She will give him what he
needs. She is so strong and young, so sure of the eternal rightness of
things--and she's got to make him sure."
The Doctor nodded. "Some of us are not sure--"
She agreed gravely. "But we are learning to be sure, aren't we, over
here? Don't you feel that all the things you have ever done are little
compared to this? That men and women are better and bigger than you
have believed?"
"If anyone could make me feel it," he said, "it would be you.
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