R。H。D。
　　"Andtheyrisetotheirfeetashepasses，gentlemenunafraid。"
　　Hewasalmosttoogoodtobetrue。Inaddition，thegodslovedhim，andsohehadtodieyoung。Somepeoplethinkthatamanoffifty—twoismiddle—aged。ButifR。H。D。hadlivedtobeahundred，hewouldneverhavegrownold。ItisnotgenerallyknownthatthenameofhisotherbrotherwasPeterPan。
　　Withintheyearwehaveplayedatpiratestogether，atthetakingofspermwhales；andwehaveransackedtheWestchesterHillsforgunsitesagainsttheMexicaninvasion。Andwehavemadelistsofguns，andmedicines，andtinnedthings，incaseweshouldeverhappentogoelephantshootinginAfrica。Butweweren’tgoingtohurttheelephants。OnceR。H。D。shotahippopotamusandhewasalwaysashamedandsorry。Ithinkheneverkilledanythingelse。Hewasn’tthatkindofasportsman。Ofhunting，asofmanyotherthings，hehassaidthelastword。DoyouremembertheHappyHuntingGroundin"TheBarSinister"？——"Wherenobodyhuntsus，andthereisnothingtohunt。"
　　Experiencedpersonstellusthataman—huntisthemostexcitingofallsports。R。H。D。huntedmeninCuba。Hehuntedforwoundedmenwhowereoutinfrontofthetrenchesandstillunderfire，andfoundsomeofthemandbroughtthemin。TheRoughRidersdidn’tmakehimanhonorarymemberoftheirregimentjustbecausehewascharmingandafaithfulfriend，butlargelybecausetheywerealotofdaredevilsandhewasanother。
　　Tohearhimtalkyouwouldn’thavethoughtthathehadeverdoneabravethinginhislife。Hetalkedagreatdeal，andhetalkedevenbetterthanhewrote（athisbesthewrotelikeanangel），butIhavedustedeverycornerofmymemoryandcannotrecallanystoryofhisinwhichheplayedaheroicorsuccessfulpart。Alwayshewasrunningattopspeed，orhidingbehindatree，orlyingfacedowninafootofwater（forhours！）soasnottobeseen。Alwayshewasgettingtheworstofit。Butabouttheotherfellowshetoldthewholetruthwithlightningflashesofwitandcharacterbuildingandadmirationorcontempt。Untiltheinventionofmovingpicturestheworldhadnothingintheleastlikehistalk。Hiseyehadphotographed，hismindhaddevelopedandpreparedtheslides，hiswordssentthelightthroughthem，andloandbehold，theywerereproducedonthescreenofyourownmind，exactindrawingandcolor。Withthewrittenwordorthespokenwordhewasthegreatestrecorderandreporterofthingsthathehadseenofanyman，perhaps，thateverlived。Thehistoryofthelastthirtyyears，itsmannersandcustomsanditsleadingeventsandinventions，cannotbewrittentruthfullywithoutreferencetotherecordswhichhehasleft，tohisspecialarticlesandtohisletters。ReadoveragaintheQueen’sJubilee，theCzar’sCoronation，theMarchoftheGermansthroughBrussels，andseeforyourselfifIspeaktoozealously，evenforafriend，towhom，nowthatR。H。D。isdead，theworldcanneverbethesameagain。
　　ButIdidnotsetouttoestimatehisgenius。Thatmatterwillcomeinduetimebeforetheunerringtribunalofposterity。
　　OnesecretofMr。Roosevelt’sholduponthosewhocomeintocontactwithhimishisenergy。Retainingenoughforhisownuse（heusesagooddeal，becauseeverydayhedoestheworkoffiveorsixmen），hedistributestheinexhaustibleremainderamongthosewhomostneedit。Mengotohimtiredanddiscouraged，hesendsthemawaygladtobealive，stillgladderthatheisalive，andreadytofightthedevilhimselfinagoodcause。UponhisfriendsR。H。D。hadthesameeffect。Anditwasnotonlyinproximitythathecoulddistributeenergy，butfromafar，byletterandcable。Hehadsomeintuitivewayofknowingjustwhenyouwereslippingintoasloughoflazinessanddiscouragement。Andatsuchtimesheeitherappearedsuddenlyuponthescene，ortherecameaboyonabicycle，withayellowenvelopeandabooktosign，orthepostmaninhisbuggy，orthetelephonerangandfromthereceivertherepouredintoyouaffectionandencouragement。
　　Butthegreattimes，ofcourse，werewhenhecameinperson，andthetemperatureofthehouse，whichamomentbeforehadbeentoohotortoocold，becamejustright，andasenseofcheerfulnessandwell—beinginvadedtheheartsofthemasterandthemistressandoftheservantsinthehouseandintheyard。Andtheolderdaughterrantohim，andthebaby，whohadbeenfrettingbecausenobodywouldgiveheradouble—
　　barrelledshotgun，climbeduponhiskneeandforgotallaboutthedisappointmentsofthisuncompromisingworld。
　　Hewastouchinglysweetwithchildren。Ithinkhewasalittleafraidofthem。Hewasafraidperhapsthattheywouldn’tfindouthowmuchhelovedthem。Butwhentheyshowedhimthattheytrustedhim，and，unsolicited，climbeduponhimandlaidtheircheeksagainsthis，thentheloveliestexpressioncameoverhisface，andyouknewthatthegreatheart，whichtheotherdayceasedtobeat，throbbedwithanexquisitebliss，akintoanguish。
　　OneofthehappiestdaysIrememberwaswhenIandminereceivedatelegramsayingthathehadababyofhisown。AndIthankGodthatlittleMissHopeistooyoungtoknowwhatanappallinglossshehassuffered……
　　Perhapshestayedtodine。Thenperhapstheolderdaughterwasallowedtositupanextrahalf—hoursothatshecouldwaitonthetable（andthoughIsayit，thatshouldn’t，shecoulddothisbeautifully，withdignityandwithoutgiggling），andperhapsthedinnerwasgood，orR。H。D。
　　thoughtitwas，andinthateventhemustabandonhisplaceandstormthekitchentotellthecookallaboutit。Perhapsthegardenerwastakinglifeeasyonthekitchenporch。He，too，cameinforpraise。R。H。D。hadneverseenourJapaneseirissobeautiful；asforhis，theywouldn’tgrowatall。Itwasn’ttheiris，itwasthemanbehindtheiris。Andthenbackhewouldcometous，withawonderfulstoryofhisadventuresinthepantryonhiswaytothekitchen，andleavingbehindhimacooktowhomtherehadbeenissuedanewleaseoflife，andagardenerwhoblushedandsmiledinthedarknessundertheActinidiavines。
　　ItwasinourlittlehouseatAiken，inSouthCarolina，thathewaswithusmostandwelearnedtoknowhimbest，andthatheandIbecamedependentuponeachotherinmanyways。
　　Events，intowhichIshallnotgo，hadmadehislifeverydifficultandcomplicated。Andhewhohadgivensomuchfriendshiptosomanypeopleneededalittlefriendshipinreturn，andperhaps，too，heneededforatimetoliveinahousewhosemasterandmistresslovedeachother，andwheretherewerechildren。Beforehecamethatfirstyearourhousehadnoname。Nowitiscalled"Let’sPretend。"
　　Nowthechimneyintheliving—roomdraws，butinthosefirstdaysofthebuilt—overhouseitdidn’t。Atleast，itdidn’tdrawallthetime，butwepretendedthatitdid，andwithmuchpretensecamefaith。Fromthefireplacethatsmokedtotheseriousthingsoflifeweextendedourpretendings，untilrealtroubleswentdownbeforethem——downandout。
　　ItwasoneofAiken’sverybestwinters，andtheearliestspringIeverlivedanywhere。R。H。D。cameshortlyafterChristmas。Thespireaswereinbloom，andthemonthlyroses；
　　youcouldalwaysfindasweetvioletortwosomewhereintheyard；hereandtheresplotchesofdeeppinkagainstgraycabinwallsprovedthatprecociouspeach—treeswereinbloom。
　　Itneverrained。Atnightitwascoldenoughforfires。Inthemiddleofthedayitwashot。Thewindneverblew，andeverymorningwehadafourfortennisandeveryafternoonwerodeinthewoods。Andeverynightwesatinfrontofthefire（thatdidn’tsmokebecauseofpretending）andtalkeduntilthenextmorning。
　　Hewasoneofthoserarelygiftedmenwhofindtheirchiefestpleasurenotinlookingbackwardorforward，butinwhatisgoingonatthemoment。WeeksdidnothavetopassbeforeitwasforceduponhisknowledgethatTuesday，thefourteenth（letussay），hadbeenagoodTuesday。Heknewitthemomenthewakedat7A。M。andperceivedtheTuesdaysunshinemakingpatternsofbrightlightuponthefloor。Thesunshinerejoicedhimandtheknowledgethatevenbeforebreakfasttherewasvouchsafedtohimawholehouroflife。Thatdaybeganwithattentionstohisphysicalwell—being。Therewereexercisesconductedwithgreatvigorandrejoicing，followedbyatub，artesiancold，andaloudandjoyoussingingofballads。
　　AtfiftyR。H。D。mighthaveposedtosomePraxitelesand，copiedinmarble，gonedowntheagesas"statueofayoungathlete。"Hestoodsixfeetandover，straightasaSiouxchief，anobleandleonineheadcarriedbyasplendidtorso。
　　Hisskinwasasfineandcleanasachild’s。Heweighednearlytwohundredpoundsandhadnofatonhim。Hewastheweight—throwingratherthantherunningtypeofathlete，butsotenaciouslyhadheclungtothesupplenessofhisadolescentdaysthathecouldstandstiff—leggedandlayhishandsflatuponthefloor。
　　Thesingingover，silencereigned。Butifyouhadlistenedathisdooryoumusthaveheardapengoing，swiftlyandboldly。
　　Hewashardatwork，doinguntootherswhatothershaddoneuntohim。Youwereastrangertohim；somemagazinehadacceptedastorythatyouhadwrittenandpublishedit。
　　R。H。D。hadfoundsomethingtolikeandadmireinthatstory（verylittleperhaps），anditwashisdutyandpleasuretotellyouso。Ifhehadlikedthestoryverymuchhewouldsendyouinsteadofanoteatelegram。Oritmightbethatyouhaddrawnapicture，or，asacubreporter，hadshowngoldenpromiseinahalfcolumnofunsignedprint，R。H。D。
　　wouldfindyouout，andfindtimetopraiseyouandhelpyou。
　　Soitwasthatwhenheemergedfromhisroomatsharpeighto’clock，hewaswide—awakeandhappyandhungry，andwhistledanddouble—shuffledwithhisfeet，outofexcessiveenergy，andcarriedinhishandsawholesheafofnotesandlettersandtelegrams。
　　BreakfastwithhimwasnottheusualAmericanbreakfast，asullen，dyspepticgatheringofpersonswhoonlythenightbeforehadrejoicedineachother’ssociety。Withhimitwasthetimewhenthemindis，oroughttobe，atitsbest，thebodyatitsfreshestandhungriest。Discussionsofthelatestplaysandnovels，thedoingsandundoingsofstatesmen，laughterandsentiment——tohim，atbreakfast，thesethingswereasimportantassausagesandthickcream。
　　Breakfastover，therewasnodawdlingandputtingoffoftheday’swork（elsehow，atelevensharp，couldtennisbeplayedwithafreeconscience？）。Loving，ashedid，everythingconnectedwithanewspaper，hewouldnowpassbythoseonthehall—tablewithneversomuchasawistfulglance，andhurrytohisworkroom。
　　Hewrotesittingdown。Hewrotestandingup。And，almostyoumaysay，hewrotewalkingupanddown。Somepeople，accustomedtothedeliciouseaseandclarityofhisstyle，imaginethathewroteveryeasily。Hedidandhedidn’t。
　　Letters，easy，clear，tothepoint，andgorgeouslyhuman，flowedfromhimwithoutletorhindrance。Thatmasterpieceofcorresponding，"TheGermanMarchThroughBrussels，"wasprobablywrittenalmostasfastashecouldtalk（nexttoPhillipsBrooks，hewasthefastesttalkerIeverheard），butwhenitcametofictionhehadnofacilityatall。PerhapsI
　　shouldsaythatheheldincontemptanyfacilitythathemayhavehad。ItwasowingtohisincomparableenergyandJoblikepatiencethatheevergaveusanyfictionatall。Everyphraseinhisfictionwas，ofallthemyriadphraseshecouldthinkof，thefittestinhisrelentlessjudgmenttosurvive。
　　Phrases，paragraphs，pages，wholestorieseven，werewrittenoverandoveragain。Heworkeduponaprincipleofelimination。Ifhewishedtodescribeanautomobileturninginatagate，hemadefirstalongandelaboratedescriptionfromwhichtherewasomittednodetail，whichthemostobservantpairofeyesinChristendomhadevernotedwithreferencetojustsuchaturning。Thereuponhewouldbeginaprocessofomittingonebyonethosedetailswhichhehadbeenatsuchpainstorecall；andaftereachomissionhewouldaskhimself："Doesthepictureremain？"Ifitdidnot，herestoredthedetailwhichhehadjustomitted，andexperimentedwiththesacrificeofsomeother，andsoon，andsoon，untilafterHerculeanlaborthereremainedforthereaderoneofthoseswiftlyflashed，ice—clearpictures（completeineverydetail）withwhichhistalesandromancesaresodelightfullyandcontinuouslyadorned。
　　Butitisquartertoeleven，and，thisbeingatimeofholiday，R。H。D。emergesfromhisworkroomhappytothinkthathehasplacedonehundredandsevenwordsbetweenhimselfandthewolfwhohangsabouteverywriter’sdoor。Heisn’tsatisfiedwiththosehundredandsevenwords。Heneverwasintheleastsatisfiedwithanythingthathewrote，buthehassearchedhismindandhisconscienceandhebelievesthatunderthecircumstancestheyaretheverybestthathecando。Anyway，theycanstandintheirpresentorderuntil——
　　afterlunch。
　　Asignofhisyouthwasthefactthattothedayofhisdeathhehaddeniedhimselftheluxuryandslothfulnessofhabits。
　　Ihaveneverseenhimsmokeautomaticallyasmostmendo。Hehadtoomuchrespectforhisownpowersofenjoymentandforthesensibilities，perhaps，ofthebestHavanatobacco。Atatimeofhisowndeliberatechoosing，oftenaftermanyhoursofhankeringandrenunciation，hesmokedhiscigar。Hesmokeditwithdelight，withasenseofbeingrewarded，andheusedallthesmoketherewasinit。
　　Hedearlylovedthebestfood，thebestchampagne，andthebestScotchwhiskey。Butthesethingswerefriendstohim，andnotenemies。HehadtowardfoodanddrinktheContinentalattitude；namely，thatqualityisfarmoreimportantthanquantity；andhegothisexhilarationfromthefactthathewasdrinkingchampagneandnotfromthechampagne。PerhapsI
　　shalldowelltosaythatonquestionsofrightandwronghehadawillofiron。Allhislifehemovedresolutelyinwhicheverdirectionhisconsciencepointed；and，althoughthateverpresentandneverobtrusiveconscienceofhismademistakesofjudgmentnowandthen，asmustallconsciences，I
　　thinkitcanneveroncehavetrickedhimintoanyactionthatwasimpureorunclean。Somecriticsmaintainthattheheroesandheroinesofhisbooksareimpossiblypureandinnocentyoungpeople。R。H。D。nevercalleduponhischaractersforanytraitofvirtue，orrenunciation，orself—masteryofwhichhisownlifecouldnotfurnishexamples。
　　Fortunately，hedidnothaveforhisfriendsthesameconsciencethathehadforhimself。Hisgreatgiftofeyesightandobservationfailedhiminhisjudgmentsuponhisfriends。Ifonlyyoulovedhim，youcouldgetyourbiggestfailuresofconductsomewhatmorethanforgiven，withoutanytroubleatall。Andofyourmole—hillvirtueshemadesplendidmountains。Heonlyinterferedwithyouwhenhewasafraidthatyouweregoingtohurtsomeoneelsewhomhealsoloved。OnceIhadatelegramfromhimwhichurgedmeforheaven’ssakenottoforgetthatthenextdaywasmywife’sbirthday。WhetherIhadforgottenitornotismyownprivateaffair。AndwhenIdeclaredthatIhadreadastorywhichI
　　likedvery，verymuchandwasgoingtowritetotheauthortotellhimso，healwayskeptatmetilltheletterwaswritten。
　　HaveIsaidthathehadnohabits？Everyday，whenhewasawayfromher，hewrotealettertohismother，andnoswiftscrawlatthat，for，nomatterhowcrowdedandeventfultheday，hewroteherthebestletterthathecouldwrite。Thatwastheonlyhabithehad。Hewasaslavetoit。
　　OnceIsawR。H。D。greethisoldmotherafteranabsence。
　　Theythrewtheirarmsabouteachotherandrockedtoandfroforalongtime。Andithadn’tbeenalongabsenceatthat。
　　Nooceanhadbeenbetweenthem；herhearthadnotbeeninhermouthwiththethoughtthathewasunderfire，orabouttobecomeavictimofjunglefever。Hehadonlybeenawayuponalittleexpedition，amerematterofdiggingforburiedtreasure。Wehadfoundthetreasure，partofitachipmunk’sskullandabrokenarrow—head，andR。H。D。hadbeenabsentfromhismotherfornearlytwohoursandahalf。
　　IsetaboutthisarticlewiththeknowledgethatImustfailtogivemorethanafewhintsofwhathewaslike。Thereisn’tmuchmorespaceatmycommand，andthereweresomanysidestohimthattotouchuponthemallwouldfillavolume。
　　TherewerethepatriotismandtheAmericanism，asmuchapartofhimasthemarrowofhisbones，andfromwhichsprangallthosebrilliantheadlongletterstothenewspapers；thosetrenchantassaultsuponevil—doersinpublicoffice，thosequixoticeffortstoredresswrongs，andthosesimpleanddexterousexposuresofthisandthat，fromanabsolutelyunexpectedpointofview。Hewasaquickenerofthepublicconscience。Thatpeoplearebeginningtothinktolerantlyofpreparedness，thatanationwhichatonetimelookedyellowasadandelionisbeginningtoturnRed，White，andBlueisowinginsomemeasuretohim。
　　R。H。D。thoughtthatwarwasunspeakablyterrible。Hethoughtthatpeaceatthepricewhichourcountryhasbeenforcedtopayforitwasinfinitelyworse。Andhewasoneofthosewhohavegraduallytaughtthiscountrytoseethematterinthesameway。
　　Imustcometoaclosenow，andIhavehardlyscratchedthesurfaceofmysubject。AndthatisafailurewhichIfeelkeenlybutwhichwasinevitable。AsR。H。D。himselfusedtosayofthosedeplorable"personalinterviews"whichappearinthenewspapers，andinwhichtheimportantpersoninterviewedismadebythecubreportertosaythingswhichheneversaid，orthought，ordreamedof——"Youcan’texpectafifteen—
　　dollar—a—weekbraintodescribeathousand—dollar—a—weekbrain。"
　　Thereis，however，onequestionwhichIshouldattempttoanswer。Notwomenarealike。InwhatonesalientthingdidR。H。D。differfromothermen——differinhispersonalcharacterandinthecharacterofhiswork？AndthatquestionIcanansweroffhand，withouttakingthought，andbesurethatIamright。
　　Ananalysisofhisworks，astudyofthatbookwhichtheRecordingAngelkeepswillshowonedominantcharacteristictowhichevenhisbrilliancy，hisclarityofstyle，hisexcellentmechanismasawriteraresubordinate；andtowhich，asaman，evenhissenseofduty，hispowersofaffection，offorgiveness，ofloving—kindnessaresubordinate，too；andthatcharacteristiciscleanliness。
　　Thebiggestforceforcleanlinessthatwasintheworldhasgoneoutoftheworld——gonetothatHappyHuntingGroundwhere"Nobodyhuntsusandthereisnothingtohunt。"
　　GOUVERNEURMORRIS。
　　Chapter1
　　THEREDCROSSGIRL
　　WhenSpencerFlagglaidthefoundation—stoneforthenewmillion—dollarwinghewasaddingtotheFlaggHomeforConvalescents，onthehillsaboveGreenwich，theNewYorkREPUBLICsentSamWardtocoverthestory，andwithhimReddingtotakephotographs。Itwasacrisp，beautifuldayinOctober，fullofsunshineandthejoyofliving，andfromthegreatlawninfrontoftheHomeyoucouldseehalfoverConnecticutandacrossthewatersoftheSoundtoOysterBay。
　　UponSamWard，however，thebeautiesofNaturewerewasted。
　　When，thenightprevious，hehadbeengiventheassignmenthehadsulked，andhewasstillsulking。OnlyayearbeforehehadgraduatedintoNewYorkfromasmallup—statecollegeandasmallup—statenewspaper，butalreadyhewasa"star"man，andHewitt，thecityeditor，humoredhim。
　　"What’sthematterwiththestory？"askedthecityeditor。
　　"Withthespeechesandlistsofnamesitoughttoruntotwocolumns。"
　　"Supposeitdoes！"exclaimedWard；"anybodycancollecttype—writtenspeechesandlistsofnames。That’samessengerboy’sjob。Where’sthereanyheart—interestinaWallStreetbrokerlikeFlaggwavingasilvertrowelandsinging，’Seewhatagoodboyam！’andalotofgrownupmeninpinaforessaying，’Thisstoneiswellandtrulylaid。’Where’sthestoryinthat？"
　　"WhenIwasareporter，"declaredthecityeditor，"Iusedtobegladtogetadayinthecountry。"
　　"Becauseyou’dneverlivedinthecountry，"returnedSam。"Ifyou’dwastedtwenty—sixyearsinthebackwoods，asIdid，you’dknowthateveryminuteyouspendoutsideofNewYorkyou’rerobbingyourself。"
　　"Ofwhat？"demandedthecityeditor。"There’snothingtoNewYorkexceptcement，irongirders，noise，andzincgarbagecans。YouneverseethesuninNewYork；youneverseethemoonunlessyoustandinthemiddleofthestreetandbendbackward。WeneverseeflowersinNewYorkexceptonthewomen’shats。Weneverseethewomenexceptincagesintheelevators——theyspendtheirlivesshootingupanddownelevatorshaftsindepartmentstores，inapartmenthouses，inofficebuildings。AndweneverseechildreninNewYorkbecausethejanitorswon’tletthewomenwholiveinelevatorshavechildren！Don’ttalktome！NewYork’saLittleNemonightmare。It’sajoke。It’saninsult！"
　　"Howcurious！"saidSam。"NowIseewhytheytookyouoffthestreetandmadeyouacityeditor。Idon’tagreewithanythingyousay。Especiallyareyouwrongaboutthewomen。
　　Theyoughttobecagedinelevators，butthey’renot。
　　Instead，theyflashpastyouinthestreet；theyshineuponyoufromboxesinthetheatre；theyfrownatyoufromthetopsofbuses；theysmileatyoufromthecushionsofataxi，acrossrestauranttablesunderredcandleshades，whenyouofferthemaseatinthesubway。TheyaretheonlythinginNewYorkthatgivesmeanytrouble。"
　　Thecityeditorsighed。"Howyoungyouare！"heexclaimed。
　　"However，to—morrowyouwillbefreefromyouronlytrouble。
　　Therewillbefewwomenatthecelebration，andtheywillbeinterestedonlyinconvalescents——andyoudonotlooklikeaconvalescent。"
　　SamWardsatattheouteredgeofthecrowdofoverdressedfemalesandoverfedmen，and，withasardonicsmile，listenedtoFlaggtellinghisassembledfriendsandsycophantshowgladhewastheyweretheretoseehimgiveawayamilliondollars。
　　"Aren’tyougoingtogethisspeech？"，askedRedding，thestaffphotographer。
　　"GetHISspeech！"saidSam。"TheyhavePinkertonsalloverthegroundstoseethatyoudon’tescapewithlessthanthreecopies。I’mwaitingtoheartheritualtheyalwayshave，andthenI’mgoingtosprintforthefirsttrainbacktothecentreofcivilization。"
　　"There’sgoingtobeafinelunch，"saidRedding，"andreportersareexpected。Iaskedthepolicemanifwewere，andhesaidwewere。"
　　Samrose，shookhistrousersintoplace，stuckhisstickunderhisarmpitandsmoothedhisyellowgloves。Hewasverythoughtfulofhisclothesandalwaystreatedthemwithcourtesy。
　　"Youcanhavemyshare，"hesaid。"IcannotforgetthatIamfifty—fiveminutesfromBroadway。AndevenifIwerestarvingIwouldratherhaveaclubsandwichinNewYorkthanaThanksgivingturkeydinnerinNewRochelle。"
　　Henoddedandwitheager，athleticstridesstartedtowardtheirongates；buthedidnotreachtheirongates，forontheinstanttroublebarredhisway。Troublecametohimwearingthebluecambricuniformofanursingsister，witharedcrossonherarm，withawhitecollarturneddown，whitecuffsturnedback，andatinyblackvelvetbonnet。Abowofwhitelawnchuckedherimpudentlyunderthechin。Shehadhairlikegolden—rodandeyesasblueasflax，andacomplexionofsuchhealthandcleanlinessanddewinessasbloomsonlyontrainednurses。
　　ShewassolovelythatReddingswunghishoodedcameraatherasswiftlyasacowboycouldhavecoveredherwithhisgun。
　　Reportersbecomestarreportersbecausetheyobservethingsthatotherpeoplemissandbecausetheydonotletitappearthattheyhaveobservedthem。Whenthegreatmanwhoisbeinginterviewedblurtsoutthatwhichisindiscreetbutmostimportant，thecubreportersays："That’smostinteresting，sir。I’llmakeanoteofthat。"Andsowarnsthegreatmanintosilence。Butthestarreporterreceivestheindiscreetutteranceasthoughitboredhim；andthegreatmandoesnotknowhehasblundereduntilhereadsofitthenextmorningunderscreamingheadlines。
　　Othermen，onbeingsuddenlyconfrontedbySisterAnne，whichwastheofficialtitleofthenursingsister，wouldhavefallenbackward，orswooned，orgazedatherwithsoulful，worshippingeyes；or，weretheythatsortofbeast，wouldhaveogledherwithimpertinentapproval。NowSam，becausehewasastarreporter，observedthattheladybeforehimwasthemostbeautifulyoungwomanhehadeverseen；butnoonewouldhaveguessedthatheobservedthat——leastofallSisterAnne。Hestoodinherwayandliftedhishat，andevenlookedintotheeyesofblueasimpersonallyandascalmlyasthoughshewerehisgreat—aunt——asthoughhisheartwasnotbeatingsofastthatitchokedhim。
　　"IamfromtheREPUBLIC，"hesaid。"Everybodyissobusyhereto—daythatI’mnotabletogetwhatIneedabouttheHome。
　　Itseemsapity，"headdeddisappointedly，"becauseit’ssowelldonethatpeopleoughttoknowaboutit。"Hefrownedatthebighospitalbuildings。Itwasapparentthattheignoranceofthepublicconcerningtheirexcellencegreatlyannoyedhim。
　　WhenagainhelookedatSisterAnneshewasregardinghiminalarm——obviouslyshewasuponthepointofinstantflight。
　　"Youareareporter？"shesaid。
　　Somepeopleliketoplacethemselvesinthehandsofareporterbecausetheyhopehewillprinttheirnamesinblackletters；afewothers——onlyreportersknowhowfew——wouldassoonplacethemselvesinthehandsofadentist。
　　"AreporterfromtheREPUBLIC，"repeatedSam。
　　"ButwhyaskME？"demandedSisterAnne。
　　Samcouldseenoreasonforherquestion；inextenuationandexplanationheglancedatheruniform。
　　"Ithoughtyouwereatworkhere，"hesaidsimply。"Ibegyourpardon。"
　　Hesteppedasideasthoughhemeanttoleaveher。Ingivingthatimpressionhewasdistinctlydishonest。
　　"Therewasnootherreason，"persistedSisterAnne。"Imeanforspeakingtome？"
　　ThereasonforspeakingtoherwassoobviousthatSamwonderedwhetherthiscouldbetheheightofinnocenceorthemostbanalcoquetry。Thehostilelookintheeyesoftheladyproveditcouldnotbecoquetry。
　　"Iamsorry，"saidSam。"Imistookyouforoneofthenurseshere；and，asyoudidn’tseembusy，IthoughtyoumightgivemesomestatisticsabouttheHomenotreallystatistics，youknow，butlocalcolor。"
　　SisterAnnereturnedhislookwithoneassteadyashisown。
　　Apparentlyshewasweighinghisstatement。Sheseemedtodisbelieveit。Inwardlyhewasaskinghimselfwhatcouldbethedarksecretinthepastofthisyoungwomanthatatthemereapproachofareporter——evenofsuchanice—lookingreporterashimself——sheshouldshakeandshudder。"Ifthat’swhatyoureallywanttoknow，"saidSisterAnnedoubtfully，"
　　I’lltryandhelpyou；but，"sheadded，lookingathimasonewhoissuesanultimatum，"youmustnotsayanythingaboutme！"
　　Samknewthatawomanoftheself—advertising，club—
　　organizingclasswillalwayssaythattoareporteratthetimeshegiveshimhercardsothathecanspellhernamecorrectly；butSamrecognizedthatthisyoungwomanmeantit。
　　Besides，whatwastherethathecouldwriteabouther？Muchashemightliketodoso，hecouldnotbeginhisstorywith：
　　"TheFlaggHomeforConvalescentsisalsothehomeofthemostbeautifulofalllivingwomen。"Nocopyeditorwouldletthatgetbyhim。So，astherewasnothingtosaythathewouldbeallowedtosay，hepromisedtosaynothing。SisterAnnesmiled；anditseemedtoSamthatshesmiled，notbecausehispromisehadsethermindatease，butbecausethepromiseamusedher。Samwonderedwhy。
　　SisterAnnefellintostepbesidehimandledhimthroughthewardsofthehospital。Hefoundthatitexistedforandrevolvedentirelyaboutoneperson。Hefoundthatamilliondollarsandsomeacresofbuildings，containingsun—roomsandhundredsofrigidwhitebeds，hadbeendonatedbySpencerFlaggonlytoprovideabackgroundforSisterAnne——onlytoexhibitthedepthofhercharity，thekindnessofherheart，theunselfishnessofhernature。
　　"Doyoureallyscrubthefloors？"hedemanded——"Imeanyouyourself——downonyourknees，withapailandwaterandscrubbingbrush？"
　　SisterAnneraisedherbeautifuleyebrowsandlaughedathim。
　　"Wedothatwhenwefirstcomehere，"shesaid——"whenweareprobationers。Isthereanewerwayofscrubbingfloors？"
　　"Andtheseawfulpatients，"demandedSam——"doyouwaitonthem？Doyouhavetosubmittotheircomplaintsandwhiningsandingratitude？"Heglaredattheunhappyconvalescentsasthoughbythatglancehewouldannihilatethem。"It’snotfair！"exclaimedSam。"It’sridiculous。I’dliketochokethem！"
　　"That’snotexactlytheobjectofahomeforconvalescents，"
　　saidSisterAnne。
　　"YouknowperfectlywellwhatImean，"saidSam。"Hereareyou——ifyou’llallowmetosayso——amagnificent，splendid，healthyyoungperson，wearingoutyouryounglifeoveralotoflameducks，failures，andcripples。"
　　"Noristhatquitethewaywelookat，"saidSisterAnne。
　　"We？"demandedSam。
　　SisterAnnenoddedtowardagroupofnurse"I’mnottheonlynursehere，"shesaid"Thereareoverforty。"
　　"Youaretheonlyonehere，"saidSam，"whoisnot！That’sJustwhatImean——Iappreciatetheworkofatrainednurse；I
　　understandtheministeringangelpartofit；butyou——I’mnottalkingaboutanybodyelse；I’mtalkingaboutyou——youaretooyoung！Somehowyouaredifferent；youarenotmeanttowearyourselfoutfightingdiseaseandsickness，measuringbeefbrothandmakingbeds。"
　　SisterAnnelaughedwithdelight。
　　"Ibegyourpardon，"saidSamstiffly。
　　"No——pardonme，"saidSisterAnne；"butyourideasofthedutiesofanursearesoquaint。"
　　"Nomatterwhatthedutiesare，"declaredSam；"Youshouldnotbehere！"
　　SisterAnneshruggedhershoulders；theywerecharmingshoulders——asdelicateasthepinionsofabird。
　　"Onemustlive，"saidSisterAnne。
　　Theyhadpassedthroughthelastcoldcorridor，betweenthelastrowsofrigidwhitecots，andhadcomeoutintothesunshine。BelowthemstretchedConnecticut，paintedinautumncolors。SisterAnneseatedherselfuponthemarblerailingoftheterraceandlookeddownupontheflashingwatersoftheSound。
　　"Yes；that’sit，"sherepeatedsoftly——"onemustlive。"
　　Samlookedather——but，findingthattodosomadespeechdifficult，lookedhurriedlyaway。Headmittedtohimselfthatitwasoneofthoseoccasions，onlytoofrequentwithhim，whenhisindignantsympathywasheightenedbythefactthat"thewoman。wasveryfair。"Heconcededthat。HewasnotgoingtopretendtohimselfthathewasnotprejudicedbytheoutrageousbeautyofSisterAnne，bytheassaultuponhisfeelingsmadebyheruniform——madebytheappealofherprofession，thegentlestandmostgraciousofallprofessions。Hewashonestlydisturbedthatthisyounggirlshoulddevoteherlifetotheserviceofselfishsickpeople。
　　"Ifyoudoitbecauseyoumustlive，thenitcaneasilybearranged；forthereareotherwaysofearningaliving。"
　　Thegirllookedathimquickly，buthewasquitesincere——andagainshesmiled。
　　"Nowwhatwouldyousuggest？"sheasked。"Yousee，"shesaid，"Ihavenoonetoadviseme——nomanofmyownage。Ihavenobrotherstogoto。Ihaveafather，butitwashisideathatIshouldcomehere；andsoIdoubtifhewouldapproveofmychangingtoanyotherwork。Yourownworkmustmakeyouacquaintedwithmanywomenwhoearntheirownliving。Maybeyoucouldadviseme？"
　　Samdidnotatonceanswer。Hewascalculatinghastilyhowfarhissalarywouldgotowardsupportingawife。Hewastryingtorememberwhichofthemenintheofficeweremarried，andwhethertheywerethosewhosesalariesweresmallerthanhisown。Collins，oneofthecopyeditors，heknew，wasveryill—paid；butSamalsoknewthatCollinswasmarried，becausehiswifeusedtowaitforhimintheofficetotakehertothetheatre，andoftenSamhadthoughtshewasextremelywelldressed。OfcourseSisterAnnewassobeautifulthatwhatshemightwearwouldbeamatterofindifference；butthenwomendidnotalwayslookatitthatway。SamwassolongconsideringofferingSisterAnnealifepositionthathissilencehadbecomesignificant；andtocoverhisrealthoughtshesaidhurriedly：
　　"Taketype—writing，forinstance。Thatpaysverywell。Thehoursarenotdifficult。"
　　"Andmanicuring？"suggestedSisterAnne。
　　Samexclaimedinhorror。
　　"You！"hecriedroughly。"Foryou！Quiteimpossible！"
　　"Whyforme？"saidthegirl。
　　InthedistressatthethoughtSamwasjabbinghisstickintothegravelwalkasthoughdrivingthemanicuringideaintoadeepgrave。Hedidnotseethatthegirlwassmilingathimmockingly。
　　"You？"protestedSam。"Youinabarber’sshopwashingmen’sfingerswhoarenotfittowashthestreetsyouwalkonI
　　GoodLord！"Hisvehemencewasquitehonest。Thegirlceasedsmiling。Samwasstilljabbingatthegravelwalk，hisprofiletowardher——and，unobserved，shecouldstudyhisface。Itwasanattractivefacestrong，clever，almostillegallygood—looking。Itexplainedwhy，as，hehadcomplainedtothecityeditor，hischieftroubleinNewYorkwaswiththewomen。Withhiseyesfullofconcern，Samturnedtoherabruptly。"Howmuchdotheygiveyouamonth？""Fortydollars，"answeredSisterAnne。"Thisiswhathurtsmeaboutit，"saidSam。
　　Itisthatyoushouldhavetoworkandwaitonotherpeoplewhentherearesomanystrong，hulkingmenwhowouldcountitGod’sblessingtoworkforyou，towaitonyou，andgivetheirlivesforyou。However，probablyyouknowthatbetterthanIdo。"
　　"No；Idon’tknowthat，"saidSisterAnne。
　　Samrecognizedthatitwasquiteabsurdthatitshouldbeso，butthisstatementgavehimasenseofgreatelation，adelightfulthrillofrelief。Therewaseveryreasonwhythegirlshouldnotconfideinacompletestranger——eventodeceivehimwasquitewithinherrights；but，thoughSamappreciatedthis，hepreferredtobedeceived。
　　"Ithinkyouareworkingtoohard，"hesaid，smilinghappily。
　　"Ithinkyououghttohaveachange。Yououghttotakeadayoff！Dotheyevergiveyouadayoff？"
　　"NextSaturday，"saidSisterAnne。"Why？"
　　"Because，"explainedSam，"ifyouwon’tthinkittoopresumptuous，Iwasgoingtoprescribeadayoffforyou——adayentirelyawayfromiodoformandwhiteenamelledcots。Itiswhatyouneed，adayinthecityandalunchwheretheyhavemusic；andamatinee，whereyoucanlaugh——orcry，ifyoulikethatbetter——andthen，maybe，somefreshairintheparkinataxi；andafterthatdinnerandmoretheatre，andthenI’llseeyousafeonthetrainforGreenwich。Beforeyouanswer，"headdedhurriedly，"IwanttoexplainthatIcontemplatetakingadayoffmyselfanddoingallthesethingswithyou，andthatifyouwanttobringanyoftheotherfortynursesalongasachaperon，Ihopeyouwill。Only，honestly，Ihopeyouwon’t！"
　　TheproposalapparentlygaveSisterAnnemuchpleasure。Shedidnotsayso，buthereyesshoneandwhenshelookedatSamshewasalmostlaughingwithhappiness。
　　"Ithinkthatwouldbequitedelightful，"saidSisterAnne，"
　　——quitedelightful！Onlyitwouldbefrightfullyexpensive；
　　evenifIdon’tbringanothergirl，whichIcertainlywouldnot，itwouldcostagreatdealofmoney。Ithinkwemightcutoutthetaxicab——andwalkintheparkandfeedthesquirrels。"
　　"Oh！"exclaimedSamindisappointment，——"thenyouknowCentralPark？"
　　SisterAnne’seyesgrewquiteexpressionless。
　　"Ioncelivednearthere，"shesaid。
　　"InHarlem？"
　　"NotexactlyinHarlem，butnearit。Iwasquiteyoung，"saidSisterAnne。"SincethenIhavealwayslivedinthecountryorin——otherplaces。"
　　Sam’sheartwassingingwithpleasure。
　　"It’ssokindofyoutoconsent，"hecried。"Indeed，youarethekindestpersoninalltheworld。IthoughtsowhenIsawyoubendingoverthesesickpeople，and，nowIknow。"
　　"Itisyouwhoarekind，"protestedSisterAnne，"totakepityonme。"
　　"Pityonyou！"laughedSam。"Youcan’tpityapersonwhocandomorewithasmilethanoldmanFlaggcandowithallhismillions。Now，"hedemandedinhappyanticipation，"wherearewetomeet？"
　　"That’sit，"saidSisterAnne。"Wherearewetomeet？"
　　"LetitbeattheGrandCentralStation。Thedaycan’tbegintoosoon，"saidSam；"andbeforethentelephonemewhattheatreandrestaurantsyouwantandI’llreserveseatsandtables。Oh，"exclaimedSamjoyfully，"itwillbeawonderfulday——awonderfulday！"
　　SisterAnnelookedathimcuriouslyand，so，itseemed，alittlewistfully。Sheheldoutherhand。
　　"Imustgobacktomyduties，"shesaid。"Good—by。"
　　"Notgood—by，"saidSamheartily，"onlyuntilSaturday——andmyname’sSamWardandmyaddressisthecityroomoftheREPUBLIC。What’syourname？"
　　"SisterAnne，"saidthegirl。"InthenursingordertowhichIbelongwehavenolastnames。"
　　"So，"askedSam，"I’llcallyouSisterAnne？"
　　"No；justSister，"saidthegirl。
　　"Sister！"repeatedSam，"Sister！"Hebreathedthewordratherthanspokeit；andthewayhesaiditandthewayhelookedwhenhesaiditmadeitcarryalmostthetouchofacaress。
　　Itwasasifhehadsaid"Sweetheart！or"Beloved！""I’llnotforget，"saidSam。
　　SisterAnnegaveanimpatient，annoyedlaugh。
　　"NorI，"shesaid。
　　SamreturnedtoNewYorkinthesmoking—car，puffingfeverishlyathiscigarandglaringdreamilyatthesmoke。Hewaslivingthedayoveragainand，inanticipation，thedayoff，stilltocome。Herehearsedtheirnextmeetingatthestation；heconsideredwhetherornothewouldmeetherwithahugebunchofvioletsorwouldhaveitbroughttoherwhentheywereatluncheonbytheheadwaiter。Hedecidedthelatterwaywouldbemoreofapleasantsurprise。Heplannedtheluncheon。Itwastobethemostmarvellousrepasthecouldevolve；and，lestthereshouldbetheslightesterror，hewouldhaveitpreparedinadvance——anditshouldcosthalfhisweek’ssalary。
　　Theplacewheretheyweretodinehewouldleavetoher，becausehehadobservedthatwomenhadstrangeideasaboutclothes——someofthemthinkingthatcertainclothesmustgowithcertainrestaurants。Someofthemseemedtobelievethat，insteadoftheirconferringdistinctionupontherestaurant，therestaurantconferreddistinctionuponthem。
　　HewassureSisterAnnewouldnotbesofoolish，butitmightbethatshemustalwayswearhernurse’suniformandthatshewouldprefernottobeconspicuous；sohedecidedthatthechoiceofwheretheywoulddinehewouldleavetoher。Hecalculatedthatthewholedayoughttocostabouteightydollars，which，asstarreporter，waswhathewasthenearningeachweek。Thatwaslittleenoughtogiveforadaythatwouldbethebirthdayofhislife！No，hecontradicted——
　　thedayhehadfirstmethermustalwaysbethebirthdayofhislife；forneverhadhemetonelikeherandhewassurethereneverwouldbeonelikeher。Shewassoentirelysuperiortoalltheothers，sofine，sodifficult——inhermannertherewassomethingthatrenderedherunapproachable。Evenhersimplenurse’sgownwaswornwithadifference。Shemighthavebeenaprincessinfancydress。
　　Andyet，howhumbleshehadbeenwhenhebeggedhertolethimforonedaypersonallyconductheroverthegreatcity！
　　"Youaresokindtotakepityonme，"shehadsaid。Hethoughtofmanyclever，prettyspeecheshemighthavemade。
　　Hewassoannoyedhehadnotthoughtofthematthetimethathekickedviolentlyattheseatinfrontofhim。
　　Hewonderedwhatherhistorymightbe；hewassureitwasfullofbeautifulcourageandself—sacrifice。Itcertainlywasoutrageousthatonesogloriousmustworkforherliving，andforsuchapaltryliving——fortydollarsamonth！Itwasworththatmerelytohavehersitintheflatwhereonecouldlookather；foralreadyhehaddecidedthat，whentheyweremarried，theywouldliveinaflat——probablyinoneoverlookingCentralPark，onCentralParkWest。Heknewofseveralattractivesuitesthereatthirty—fivedollarsaweek——or，ifshepreferredthesuburbs，hewouldforsakehisbelovedNewYorkandreturntothecountry。Inhisgratitudetoherforbeingwhatshewas，heconcededeventhatsacrifice。
　　WhenhereachedNewYork，fromthespeculatorsheboughtfront—rowseatsatfivedollarsforthetwomostpopularplaysintown。Heputthemawaycarefullyinhiswaistcoatpocket。Possessionofthemmadehimfeelthatalreadyhehadobtainedanoptiononsixhoursofcompletehappiness。
　　AftersheleftSam，SisterAnnepassedhurriedlythroughthehospitaltothematron’sroomand，wrappingherselfinaraccooncoat，madeherwaytoawaitingmotorcarandsaid，"Home！"tothechauffeur。HedrovehertotheFlaggfamilyvault，asFlagg’senviousmillionaireneighborscalledthepileofwhitemarblethattoppedthehighesthillaboveGreenwich，andwhichforyearshadservedasalandfalltomarinersontheSound。
　　Therewereanumberofpeopleatteawhenshearrivedandtheygreetedhernoisily。
　　"Ihavehadamostsplendidadventure！"saidSisterAnne。
　　"Thereweresixofus，youknow，dressedupasRedCrossnurses，andwegaveawayprogrammes。Well，oneoftheNewYorkreportersthoughtIwasarealnurseandinterviewedmeabouttheHome。OfcourseIknewenoughaboutittokeepitup，andIkeptitupsowellthathewasterriblysorryforme；and……"
　　OneoftheteadrinkerswaslittleHollisHolworthy，whopridedhimselfonknowingwho’swhoinNewYork。HehadmetSamWardatfirstnightsandprizefights。Helaughedscornfully。
　　"Don’tyoubelieveit！"heinterrupted。"ThatmanwhowastalkingtoyouwasSamWard。He’sthesmartestnewspapermaninNewYork；hewasjustleadingyouon。Doyousupposethere’sareporterinAmericawhowouldn’tknowyouinthedark？WaituntilyouseetheSundaypaper。"
　　SisterAnneexclaimedindignantly。
　　"Hedidnotknowme！"sheprotested。"ItquiteupsethimthatIshouldbewastingmylifemeasuringoutmedicinesandmakingbeds。"
　　Therewasashriekofdisbeliefandlaughter。
　　"Itoldhim，"continuedSisterAnne，"thatIgotfortydollarsamonth，andhesaidIcouldmakemoreasatypewriter；andIsaidIpreferredtobeamanicurist。"
　　"Oh，Anita！"protestedtheadmiringchorus。
　　"Andhewasmostindignant。Heabsolutelyrefusedtoallowmetobeamanicurist。AndheaskedmetotakeadayoffwithhimandlethimshowmeNewYork。Andheoffered，asattractions，moving—pictureshowsandadriveonaFifthAvenuebus，andfeedingpeanutstotheanimalsinthepark。
　　AndifIinsisteduponachaperonImightbringoneofthenurses。We’retomeetatthesoda—waterfountainintheGrandCentralStation。Hesaid，’Thedaycannotbegintoosoon。’"
　　"Oh，Anita！"shriekedthechorus。
　　LordDeptford，whoasthenewspapershadrepeatedlyinformedtheAmericanpublic，hadcometotheFlaggs’country—placetotrytomarryAnitaFlagg，wasamused。
　　"Whatanawfullyjollyrag！"hecried。"Andwhatareyougoingtodoaboutit？"
　　"Nothing，"saidAnitaFlagg。"Thereportershavebeenmakingmeridiculousforthelastthreeyears；nowIhavegotbackatoneofthem！"And，"sheadded，"that’sallthereistothat！"
　　Thatnight，however，whenthehousepartywasmakingtowardbed，SisterAnnestoppedbythestairsandsaidtoLordDeptford："IwanttohearyoucallmeSister。"
　　"Callyouwhat？"exclaimedtheyoungman。"Iwilltellyou，"
　　hewhispered，"whatI’dliketocallyou！"
　　"Youwillnot！"interruptedAnita。"DoasItellyouandsaySisteronce。Sayitasthoughyoumeantit。"
　　"ButIdon’tmeanit，"protestedhislordship。"I’vesaidalreadywhatI……"
　　"Nevermindwhatyou’vesaidalready，"commandedMissFlagg。
　　"I’veheardthatfromalotofpeople。SaySisterjustonce。"
　　Hislordshipfrownedinembarrassment。
　　"Sister！"heexclaimed。Itsoundedlikethepopofacork。
　　AnitaFlagglaughedunkindlyandherbeautifulshouldersshiveredasthoughshewerecold。
　　"Notabitlikeit，Deptford，"shesaid。"Good—night。"
　　LaterHelenPage，whocametoherroomtoaskheraboutahorseshewastorideinthemorning，foundherreadyforbedbutstandingbytheopenwindowlookingouttowardthegreatcitytothesouth。
　　WhensheturnedMissPagesawsomethinginhereyesthatcausedthatyoungwomantoshriekwithamazement。
　　"Anita！"sheexclaimed。"Youcrying！WhatinHeaven’snamecanmakeyoucry？"
　　Itwasnotakindspeech，nordidMissFlaggreceiveitkindly。Sheturneduponthetactlessintruder。
　　"Suppose，"criedAnitafiercely，"amanthoughtyouwereworthfortydollarsamonth——honestlydidn’tknow！——honestlybelievedyouwerepoorandworkedforyourliving，andstillsaidyoursmilewasworthmorethanallofoldmanFlagg’smillions，notknowingtheywereYOURmillions。Supposehedidn’taskanymoneyofyou，butjusttotakecareofyou，toslaveforyou——onlywantedtokeepyourprettyhandsfromworking，andyourprettyeyesfromseeingsicknessandpain。
　　Supposeyoumetthatmanamongthisrottenlot，whatwouldyoudo？Whatwouldn’tyoudo？"
　　"Why，Anita！"exclaimedMissPage。
　　"Whatwouldyoudo？"demandedAnitaFlagg。"Thisiswhatyou’ddo：You’dgodownonyourkneestothatmanandsay：
　　’Takemeaway！Takemeawayfromthem，andpityme，andbesorryforme，andloveme——andloveme——andloveme！"
　　"Andwhydon’tyou？"criedHelenPage。
　　"BecauseI’masrottenastherestofthem！"criedAnitaFlagg。"BecauseI’macoward。Andthat’swhyI’mcrying。
　　Haven’tItherighttocry？"
　　AttheexactmomentMissFlaggwasproclaimingherselfamoralcoward，inthelocalroomoftheREPUBLICCollins，thecopyeditor，waseditingSam’sstory’ofthelayingofthecorner—stone。Thecopyeditor’scigarwastiltednearhislefteyebrow；hisbluepencil，likeaguillotinereadytofallupontheguiltywordorparagraph，wassuspendedinmid—
　　air；andcontinually，likeahawkpreparingtostrike，thebluepencilswoopedandcircled。Butpageafterpagefellsoftlytothedeskandthebluepencilremainedinactive。Asheread，thevoiceofCollinsroseinmutteredejaculations；
　　and，ashecontinuedtoread，theseexplosionsgrewlouderandmoreamazed。Atlasthecouldendurenomoreand，swingingswiftlyinhisrevolvingchair，hisglanceswepttheoffice。"InthenameofMike！"heshouted。"WhatISthis？"
　　Thereportersnearesthim，busywithpencilandtypewriters，frownedinimpatientprotest。SamWard，swinginghislegsfromthetopofatable，wasgazingattheceiling，wrappedindreamsandtobaccosmoke。Uponhisclever，clean—cutfeaturestheexpressionwasfar—awayandbeatific。Hecamebacktoearth。
　　"What’swhat？"Samdemanded。
　　AtthatmomentElliott，themanagingeditor，waspassingthroughtheroomhishandsfilledwithfreshlypulledproofs。
　　HeswungtowardCollinsquicklyandsnatchedupSam’scopy。
　　Thestoryalreadywaslate——anditwasimportant。
　　"What’swrong？"hedemanded。Overtheroomtherefellasuddenhush。
　　"Readtheopeningparagraph，"protestedCollins。"It’slikethatforacolumn！It’sallaboutagirl——aboutaRedCrossnurse。NotawordaboutFlaggorLordDeptford。Nospeeches！
　　Nonews！It’snotanewsstoryatall。It’saneditorial，andanessay，andaspringpoem。Idon’tknowwhatitis。And，what’sworse，"wailedthecopyeditordefiantlyandtotheamazementofall，"it’ssodarnedgoodthatyoucan’ttouchit。You’vegottoletitgoorkillit。"
　　Theeyesofthemanagingeditor，maskedbyhisgreenpapershade，wereracingoverSam’swrittenwords。HethrustthefirstpagebackatCollins。
　　"Isitalllikethat？"
　　"There’sacolumnlikethat！"
　　"Runitjustasitis，"commandedthemanagingeditor。"Useitforyourintroductionandgetyourstoryfromtheflimsy。
　　And，inyourhead，cutoutFlaggentirely。Callit’TheRedCrossGirl。’Andplayitupstrongwithpictures。"HeturnedonSamandeyedhimcuriously。
　　"What’stheidea，Ward？"hesaid。"Thisisanewspaper——notamagazine！"
　　Theclickofthetypewriterswassilent，thehecticrushofthepencilshadceased，andthestaff，expectant，smiledcynicallyuponthestarreporter。Samshovedhishandsintohistrouserspocketsandalsosmiled，butunhappily。
　　"Iknowit’snotnews，Sir，"hesaid；butthat’sthewayI
　　sawthestory——outsideonthelawn，thebandplaying，andthegovernorandthegovernor’sstaffandtheclergyburningincensetoFlagg；andinside，thisgirlrightonthejob——
　　takingcareofthesickandwounded。Itseemedtomethatamillionfromamanthatwon’tmissamilliondidn’tstackupagainstwhatthisgirlwasdoingforthesesickfolks！WhatI
　　wantedtosay，"continuedSamstoutly"wasthatthemovingspiritofthehospitalwasnotinthemanwhosignedthechecks，butinthesewomenwhodothework——thenurses，liketheoneIwroteabout；theoneyoucalled’TheRedCrossGirl。’"
　　Collins，strongthroughmanyyearsoffaithfulservice，backedbythetraditionsoftheprofession，snortedscornfully。
　　"Butit’snotnews！"
　　"It’snotnews，"saidElliottdoubtfully；"butit’sthekindofstorythatmadeFrankO’Malleyfamous。It’sthekindofstorythatdrivesmenoutofthisbusinessintothearmsofwhatKiplingcalls’theillegitimatesister。’"
　　Itseldomisgrantedtoamanonthesamedaytogivehiswholehearttoagirlandtobepattedonthebackbyhismanagingeditor；anditwasthiscombination，andnotthedrinkshedispensedtothestaffinreturnforitscongratulations，thatsentSamhomewalkingonair。Helovedhisbusiness，hewasproudofhisbusiness；butneverbeforehaditservedhimsowell。Ithadenabledhimtotellthewomanheloved，andincidentallyamillionotherpeople，howdeeplyhehonoredher；howclearlyheappreciatedherpowerforgood。NoonewouldknowhemeantSisterAnne，savetwopeople——SisterAnneandhimself；butforherandforhimthatwasasmanyasshouldknow。Inhisstoryhehadusedrealincidentsoftheday；hehaddescribedherasshepassedthroughthewardsofthehospital，cheeringandsympathetic；
　　hehadtoldofthelittleactsofconsiderationthatendearedhertothesickpeople。
　　Thenextmorningshewouldknowthatitwassheofwhomhehadwritten；andbetweenthelinesshewouldreadthatthemanwhowrotethemlovedher。Sohefellasleep，impatientforthemorning。InthehotelatwhichhelivedtheREPUBLIC
　　wasalwaysplacedpromptlyoutsidehisdoor；and，aftermanyexcursionsintothehall，heatlastfoundit。Onthefrontpagewashisstory，"TheRedCrossGirl。"Ithadtheplaceofhonor——right—handcolumn；butmoreconspicuousthantheheadlinesofhisownstorywasoneofRedding’s，photographs。
　　ItwastheonehehadtakenofSisterAnnewhenfirstshehadapproachedthem，inheruniformofmercy，advancingacrossthelawn，walkingstraightintothefocusofthe，camera。
　　Therewasnomistakingherforanyotherlivingwoman；butbeneaththepicture，inbold，staring，uncompromisingtype，wasastrangeandgrotesquelegend。
　　"DaughterofMillionaireFlagg，"itread，"inaNewRole，MissAnitaFlaggasTheRedCrossGirl。"
　　ForalongtimeSamlookedatthepicture，andthen，foldingthepapersothatthepicturewashidden，hewalkedtotheopenwindow。Frombelow，Broadwaysentupatumultuousgreeting——cablecarsjangled，taxishooted；and，onthesidewalks，ontheirwaytowork，processionsofshop—girlssteppedoutbriskly。Itwasthestreetandthecityandthelifehehadfoundfascinating，butnowitjarredandaffrontedhim。Agirlheknewhaddied，hadpassedoutofhislifeforever——worsethanthathadneverexisted；andyetthecitywentorjustasthoughthatmadenodifference，orjustaslittledifferenceasitwouldhavemadehadSisterAnnereallylivedandreallydied。
　　Atthesameearlyhour，anhourfartooearlyfortherestofthehouseparty，AnitaFlaggandHelenPage，bootedandriding—habited，sataloneatthebreakfasttable，theirteabeforethem；andinthehandsofAnitaFlaggwastheDAILY
　　REPUBLIC。MissPagehadbroughtthepapertothetableand，withaffectedindignationattheimpertinenceofthepress，hadpointedatthefront—pagephotograph；butMissFlaggwasnotlookingatthephotograph，ordrinkinghertea，orshowinginherimmediatesurroundingsanyinterestwhatsoever。Instead，herlovelyeyeswerefastenedwithfascinationuponthecolumnundertheheading"TheRedCrossGirl"；and，assheread，thelovelyeyeslostalltraceofrecentslumber，herlovelylipspartedbreathlessly，andonherlovelycheeksthecolorflowedandfadedandglowedandbloomed。Whenshehadreadasfarasaparagraphbeginning，"WhenSisterAnnewalkedbetweenthemthosewhosufferedraisedtheireyestohersasflowerslifttheirfacestotherain，"shedroppedthepaperandstartedfortelephone。