other; but it 's all broken off now. If it was only craziness it 's very queer he should stick to that one name all the time."
Sarah and Netty exchanged glances, but said nothing; and the voluble Clara ran on and on, with her loose-jointed talk, till they reached the gate of her father's house. After she had gone in, Netty said to Sarah:—
"I 'm going into that ward to-morrow to write letters for Wilson and Craig. I think I 'll offer to write a letter for Joe, and see what he says to me. I think it 's just possible he did n't want Clara to write. She always thinks that she knows the men better than anybody else; but the truth is, she does n't know them half so well as either you or I. She is n't quiet enough with them."
"Yes, I would if I were you," replied Sarah; "but you must n't tell Clara if he does let you write. She would be vexed about it."
"No, indeed," said Netty, "I won't tell her."
While Netty was writing the letters for Wilson and Craig, she saw Joe Hale watching her wistfully. When she had finished, she went to his bed and said:—
"Is n't there anybody you 'd like to send a letter to, Mr. Hale? I have plenty of time to write another."
Joe glanced to the right and the left: the beds near him were empty; no one was within hearing distance of a low tone. Speaking almost in a whisper, he said:—
