I am strong; I never tire. Yes; I want to be
a nurse, the best one I can be."
Boswell understood the deeper truth. This girl, original, artistic, was
foregoing much in accepting this safe, humble course. She expected no
charity, nothing but a helpful interest. It was unusual and delightful.
"I have a hundred dollars that Master Farwell gave me. It will help, and
I can repay it by and by. I know it will be years before I can do so, but
he understands. While I am studying there will be little expense, the
lady told me. And oh!"--here Priscilla interrupted herself suddenly--"I
have an errand to do for Master Farwell as soon as I get to New York. He
told me you--would help me."
"An errand?"
"Yes. There is a--woman he once--loved; loves still. She thinks he--is
dead. It was best so in the past. There was a reason for letting her
believe so; but now he wants her--to know!"
Boswell sprang up in his chair as if he were on a strong spring.
"Wants you to go and tell her--that he still lives?"
"Yes. It will be hard, but I will do it for him."
Boswell settled back in his seat.
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