“Miss Baron feels very remorseful that she has not been to see you before,” said Dr. Ackley, “but her labors yesterday were so many and varied that she had to rest.  She will do better by you to-day.”

Waldo could only reach his hand feebly toward her in welcome.  She took the brown, shapely hand in both of hers and it made her sad to feel how cold and limp it was.  “But a few hours ago,” she thought, “it was striking blows with a heavy sabre.”—­“I have brought you some strong, hot soup,” she said gently, “and shall bring it every two hours.  You’ll be very good and take it from me, won’t you?”

He laughed as he nodded assent.

“When can I begin to read to him, doctor, to help him pass the time?”

“Perhaps to-morrow if he does well, but never more than a few minutes together until I permit.  Slow and sure, Waldo, slow and sure are my orders, and you are too good a soldier to disobey.”

He shook his head mischievously and whispered “Insubordinate.”

The doctor nodded portentously and said, “If you and Miss Baron don’t obey orders I’ll put you both under arrest.”

This seemed to amuse the young fellow immensely and he was about to speak again, but the surgeon put his finger to his lips and departed.

As she was feeding him with eyes full of gentle commiseration his lips framed the words, “You can talk to me.”

She scarcely knew how to do this.  There were questions she was eager to ask, for his strange, exuberant happiness under the circumstances were hard to understand, even after Dr. Ackley’s explanation.  She had never seen religion produce any such results.  Uncle Lusthah seemed to her very sincere and greatly sustained in his faith, but he had always been to her a sorrowful, plaintive figure, mourning for lost kindred whom slavery had scattered.  Like the ancient prophets also, his heart was ever burdened by the waywardness of the people whom he exhorted and warned.  In young Waldo appeared a joyousness which nothing could quench.  From the moment she obtained a clew to his unexpected behavior, everything in his manner accorded with the surgeon’s explanation.  In his boyish face and expression there was not a trace of the fanatical or abnormal.  He seemed to think of Heaven as he did of his own home, and the thought of going to the one inspired much the same feeling as returning to the other.

“Well,” said Miss Lou, after a little hesitancy, “it is a pleasure to wait on one who is so brave and cheerful.  It makes me feel ashamed of worrying over my troubles.”

He motioned her to get something under his pillow and she drew out a small Testament.  With the ease of perfect familiarity he turned the leaves and pointed to the words, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  He looked up at her, smiled brightly, and shook his head when he saw tears in her eyes.  Again he turned the leaves and pointed to other words, “Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you:  but rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.”  His expression was wonderfully significant in its content, for it was that of one who had explained and accounted for everything.