With a crestfallen face the man laid the stockings down and turned to go.
"Don't you think he would rather have those than none?" asked Netty.
"No, marm," replied the man. "He said he 'd rather go barefoot than wear 'em. He can make the ones he 's got do."
"I will give him a clean pair as soon as some more come in from the wash," said Netty. "You tell him he won't have to wait till next Saturday; by Tuesday we shall have more;" and she put the rejected stockings back on the empty shelf. Sarah was shaking with suppressed laughter.
"Poor Miss Matilda Bennet," said she, as soon as the man had gone away. "Her red stockings will never reach their destination, I fear. Who knows? Perhaps the very man they were for has already refused them. You 'd better mention the card in the toe to the next man you offer them to. You might hit the right person."
"No," said Netty, "I shall not offer them any more. I 'll give them to a poor man I know in town, who will not be so particular. They are really beautiful socks. Any gentleman might wear them."
The linen room was darkened again; another tall figure stood in the door-way. It was Joe Hale, the tallest, handsomest, best-natured man in the hospital,—favorite alike with surgeons, nurses, and men; so brave while he lay ill with a terrible wound
