“We have been comrades, you and I,” he said, “and we understand why.”

Lucia nodded gravely.  She felt suddenly very proud.

The Doctor came back a minute later with Maria.

“Well, are you rested enough to be moved?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh, yes I am quite all right,” Lucia assured him.

“Well, I wouldn’t brag too much,” the Doctor laughed.  “You’ll find you are pretty shaky.  Sister Francesca has a little room fixed for you and some clean clothes; how does that sound?”

Lucia smiled in reply, and the American came over at the Doctor’s call.

“Think you can manage to carry the little lady, Lathrop?” he asked.

“Guess so.”

Lucia felt the strong arms lift her, as if she weighed no more than a feather.  He carried her down the ward and up a flight of stairs.  Sister Francesca was waiting for them at the door of the little room.  It had been one of the sister’s cells.  With her help Lucia was soon in a coarse white nightgown and tucked in between clean sheets.

The Doctor came in to see her a little later.

“How is my soldier of the pennies?” she asked, and then as she realized he would not understand she added, “the one I brought up the hill.”

“Oh, Captain Riccardi, he’s still very ill, but he is going to pull through all right.”

Lucia smiled.

“Oh, I am glad,” she said.  “I was so afraid, he looked so queer.”

“Well, don’t worry any more,” the Doctor replied, “and now what do you want?”

Lucia sighed contentedly.

“Something to eat, if you please,” she said shyly, “I am very hungry.”

CHAPTER XIII

AN INTERRUPTED DREAM

A week passed, a week of lazy luxury between cool linen sheets for Lucia, and she enjoyed her rest to its fullest extent.  Every one in the convent, which was now a hospital, and running smoothly with capable American nurses, made a great fuss over her, and she had so much care that sometimes she was just the least bit bored.  When the week was over, and she was feeling herself again, she grew restless and clamored to get up.  Even the sheets, and the delicious things she had to eat, could not keep her contented.  At last the Doctor said she might go out for a few hours into the sunshine, and the whole hospital hummed with the news.

Maria, in a white apron and cap, helped her dress, and went with her down the stone steps and out into the convent garden.

The first thing that met her eye was Garibaldi, clean and lazy, lying contentedly in the sun.  She came over and seemed delighted to see her mistress once more.

“But you are so clean, my pet!” Lucia exclaimed.  “And your coat looks as if it had been brushed,” she added, wonderingly.

Maria laughed.

“It was.  The big American, Senor Lathrop, makes so much fuss over her, you would think she was a fine horse.”