"George told me," said Effie,--"perhaps it is not wrong to repeat it to you,--that he is likely to make a great deal of money."

"Did he? Did he tell you that--did he happen to say how much?"

"Well, he spoke as if money were very easily earned," said Effie. "He said something about getting fifty pounds this week."

"I must tell you the truth," said Lawson. "There's no help for it. Your brother will go straight to the bad if he is not rescued, and that at once."

"What do you mean? Oh, how you frighten me!"

Effie's face was as white as a sheet.

"I am ever so sorry," said Lawson; "but what is the use of keeping back the truth? George has had no rise of salary--indeed, if he is not careful, he is mother has gone far beyond our means. She hasn't [Transcriber's note: text of this paragraph in original is as shown and ends abruptly at this point.]

"Then how does he get his money?"

"He gets it by gambling."

"Gambling! Oh, no! oh, no!" said Effie.

She had the horror of that vice which a pure-minded, well-brought-up girl must ever have.

"It is true," said Lawson; "it gives me the greatest pain to tell you anything so bad of your brother, but there's no help for it."

"But how do you know?" interrupted Effie.

"I know by the best of evidence. I have had my suspicions for some time, but I happened to see him coming out of one of those places last week--yes, I must tell you, I saw him coming out of a gambling den. I think he goes night after night. At present he is winning more than he loses, but that is always the game for drawing fellows on."

"It must be stopped," said Effie. She felt quite faint and sick. If her mother knew this it would kill her on the spot.

They had nearly reached the hospital, and Effie turned and faced Lawson.

"You don't half know what this means to me," she said. "George is not exactly like an ordinary brother. When my father died quite suddenly of diphtheria some months ago, he left my mother in George's care. If George goes to the bad now, she will certainly die; you must have noticed for yourself how she is wrapped up in him."

"Yes; no one could fail to notice it. I think her love for him beautiful; and he loves her, too. Poor fellow! that is his great redeeming point."

"Oh, I don't call it real love," said Effie, almost with pa.s.sion--"to deceive her as he does--to do wrong, and that sort of wrong. Oh, I think my heart will break!"

Tears choked her voice, she had the greatest possible difficulty in keeping them back. Lawson took out his watch.

"You are not late," he said. "Let us take a turn round this square."

They had entered an old-fashioned square where there were very few people. They walked round and round the dismal central garden for some time. Lawson talked, and Effie listened. After a time they decided that George's perilous downward career must be stopped at any cost. Lawson said he would make it his business to see George the following evening, to tell him quite frankly what he knew, and, in short, to compel him, if necessary, to do what was right.

"He'll be obstinate," said Effie--"I know he'll be hard to deal with.

Oh, what shall we do?--what shall we do? I am quite certain that already my mother has gone far beyond our means. She hasn't been half careful enough since I left her. If George stops getting money in this way she'll wonder and question. I doubt very much whether you can have the least influence over him. What is to be done?"

"Don't be so down-hearted," said Lawson. "He requires a man to tackle him--a man who really knows the temptations young fellows meet. If you'll allow me to say so, Miss Staunton, I don't think the case quite hopeless; anyhow, you may be quite sure I'll do my best for him."

"Thank you," said poor Effie; "you are more than good, and I do trust you." She hurried back to the hospital; but, to her dismay, when she got there, found that she was a quarter of an hour late.

Absolute punctuality in returning from any outdoor pleasure is expected from all nurses. She hurried upstairs, hoping that she might gain her room, put on her cap and ap.r.o.n, and return to the ward before Sister Kate had time to miss her. This might have been the case--for Sister Kate had been very much occupied with some anxious cases during the afternoon--had not one of the nurses, who had a spite against Effie for being prettier and cleverer than herself, drawn Sister Kate's attention, to the fact that the young probationer was behind her time. This nurse had seen Effie walking with Lawson. Immediately her spirit of jealousy and envy was up in arms; she did not for a moment consider what injury she might do the poor girl by her false and unkind words.

"Nurse Staunton is late," she said. "I don't know how I am possibly to get the ward in order for the night unless I have some help."

"I must speak to her," said Sister Kate, glancing at the clock, and looking a little annoyed. "This wasn't her Sunday to go out, either. I cannot let the rules be broken in this way. Let me know as soon as ever she comes in."

"I suppose there's some excuse to be made for her," said the nurse, speaking in a knowing way. "She's a very careful, good sort of girl, but there _are_ times when the best of us forget ourselves."

The woman knew that Sister Kate would interpret her words as she wished her to do. She went off in a hurry to perform her duties, and when Effie entered the ward, Sister Kate received her with marked coldness.

"You are very late, nurse," she said. "Where have you been?"

"I have been at home with my mother."

"Was your mother ill? Is that your excuse for being behind your time?"

"No; mother was well--better than she has been for some time."

"Then why are you late?"

"The fact is, I was walking with a friend, and forgot to notice the hour."

"That's no excuse. You have certainly behaved very carelessly, and have put the other nurses out by not being in time to take your duties. Who was the friend with whom you were walking?"

Sister Kate had no right to ask this question, but she felt much provoked at the moment, and the color which rushed all over Effie's face excited her curiosity.

"Perhaps you'll think I did wrong," said Effie, looking up at her almost defiantly. "The friend was Mr. Lawson. He knows my brother very well; he was talking to me about him. I cannot refuse to speak to him when I see him out of doors, can I?"

"Don't be pert, nurse! You know it is one of the strictest rules of the hospital that none of the nurses are to speak to the medical students."

"I know; and I don't wish to speak to him in the hospital."

"See you don't, or you'll be dismissed at once; in fact, the less you know of any of the medical students, the better for you. I am very sorry that this young man knows your brother. I should not have had anything to do with you, had I been aware of this fact."

"How absurd and unjust!" murmured Effie under her breath. She turned away--she felt absolutely cross.

Sister Kate called her back.

"Now, bustle about," she said. "The supper-trays want to be taken away; the women are perfectly tired of waiting to be settled for the night."

Effie moved mechanically about her duties. Her heart felt sick. She did not think she could remain much longer under Sister Kate's care. "If she treats me like this," thought the proud girl, "I cannot endure it. Mr.

Lawson is nothing to me--he is only my brother's friend. He is good, and wants to help us in an hour of great perplexity. What shall I do? I feel tied and fettered in every way."

She laid her head on her pillow only to burst into tears. She cried herself to sleep. All the world seemed black to her.