but with a precision and grace which showed that though the material might be the same as that used by her underlings, it was made up at the West End.  She was evidently born to command, as little women often are.  It was impossible to be five minutes in her company without being affected by her domination.  Her very clothes felt it, for not a rebellious wrinkle or crease dared to show itself.  The nurses came to her almost every moment for directions, which were given with brevity and clearness, and obeyed with the utmost deference.  The furniture was like that of a yacht, very compact, scrupulously clean, and very handy.  There was a complete apparatus for instantaneously making tea, a luxurious little armchair specially made for its owner, a minute writing-case, and, for decorations, there were dainty and delicate water-colours.  Half-a-dozen books lay about, a novel or two of the best kind, and two or three volumes of poems.

“You wish to become a nurse?” said Miss Dashwood.

“Yes.”

“I am afraid you hardly know what it is, and that when you do know you will find it very disagreeable.  So many young women come here with entirely false notions as to their duties.”

Miriam was silent; Miss Dashwood’s manner depressed her.

“However, you can try.  You will have to begin at the very bottom.  I always insist on this with my probationers.  It teaches them how the work ought to be done, and, in addition, proper habits of subordination.  For three months you will have to scrub the floors and assist in keeping the wards in order.”

Miriam had imagined that she would at once be asked to watch over grateful patients, to give them medicine, and read to them.  However, she was determined to go through with her project, and she assented.  The next morning saw her in coarse clothes, busy with a pail and soap and water.  It was very hard.  She was not a Catholic novice; she was not penetrated with the great religious idea that, done in the service of the Master, all work is alike in dignity; she had, in fact, no religion whatever, and she was confronted with a trial severe even to an enthusiast received into a nunnery with all the pomp of a gorgeous ritual and sustained by the faith of ages.

Specially troublesome was her new employment to Miriam, because she was by nature so unmethodical and careless.  Perhaps there are no habits so hard to overcome as those of general looseness and want of system.  They are often associated with abundance of energy.  The corners are not shirked through fatigue, but there is an unaccountable persistency in avoiding them, which resolution and preaching are alike unable to conquer.  The root of the inconsistency is a desire speedily to achieve results.  To keep this desire in subjection, to shut the eyes to results, but patiently to remove the dust to the last atom of it lying in the dark angle, is a good part of self-culture.