Desire shook her head.

“No?  Then I’ll give you mine for nothing.  I was thinking what a pity it is that you are only an amateur nurse.”

“I hate nursing.”

“How unwomanly!  Lots of women hate it—­but few admit it.  However, it wasn’t a nurse’s duties I was thinking of, but a patient’s privileges.  You see, if you were a professional nurse I could call you ‘Nurse Desire.’”

“Do you mean that you want to call me by my first name?”

“Since you put it more bluntly than I should dare to,—­yes.  It is a charming name.  But perhaps—­”

“Oh, you may use it if you like,” said the owner of the name indifferently.  “It sounds more natural.  I am not accustomed to ’Miss Fair.’”

This ought to have been satisfactory.  But it wasn’t.  And after he had led up to it so tactfully, too!  Not for the first time did it occur to our psychologist that tact was wasted upon this downright young person.  He decided not to be tactful any longer.

“I’m getting well so rapidly,” he said, “that I shall have to admit it soon.”

The girl nodded.

“Are you glad?”

“Of course I am glad.”

“I shall walk with a cane almost in no time.  And when I can walk, I shall have to go away.”

“Yes.”  There was no hesitation in her prompt agreement.  Neither did she add any polite regrets.  The professor felt unduly irritated.  He had never become used to her ungirlish taciturnity.  It always excited him.  The women he had known, especially the younger women, had all been chatterers.  They had talked and he had not listened.  This girl said little and her silences seemed to clamour in his ears.  Well, she would have to answer this time.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked plainly.

“I don’t want you to go.”  Her tone was thoughtful.  “But I know you can’t stay.  One has to accept things.”

“One doesn’t.  One can make things happen.”

“How?”

“By willing.”

“Do you honestly believe that?” He was astonished at the depth of mockery in her tone.

“I certainly do believe it.  I’ll prove it if you like.”

“How?”

“By staying.”

Again she was silent.

He went on eagerly.  “Why shouldn’t I stay—­for a time at least?  I have plenty of work to go on with.  Indeed it was with the definite intention of doing this work that I came.  If you want me, I’ll stay right enough.  The bargain that was made with your father was a straight, fair business arrangement.  I have no scruples about requiring him to carry out his part of it The trouble was that it seemed as if insistence would be unfair to you.  But if you and I can arrange that—­if you will agree to let me do what I can to help, chores, you know, carrying wood and so on, then I should not need to feel myself a burden.”

“You have not been a burden.”

“Thanks.  You have been extraordinarily kind.  As for the rest of it—­ I mentioned the matter to Dr. Farr this morning.”