going across the river to-day."

"Certainly, M'sieu'," said the girl, and smiled because of the piece of
silver he put in her hand.

As he heard the side door open he stepped through the front doorway into
the street, and disappeared round a corner.




CHAPTER XLVII

ONE WAS TAKEN AND THE OTHER LEFT

Rosalie carried to the hospital that afternoon a lighter heart than she
had known for many a day. The sight of Jo Portugais' dogs had roused her
out of the apathy which had been growing on her in this patient but
hopeless watching beside her father. She had always a smile and a
cheerful word for the poor man. A settled sorrow hung upon her face,
however, taking away its colour, but giving it a sweet gravity which made
her slave more than one young doctor of the hospital, for whom, however,
she showed no more than a friendly frankness, free from self-
consciousness. For hours she would sit in reverie beside her sleeping
father, her heart "over the water to Charley." As in a trance, she could
see him sitting at his bench, bent over his work, now and again lifting
up his head to look across to the post-office, where another hand than
hers sorted letters now.

Day by day her father weakened and faded away. All that was possible to