useless cripple," she said, with an appealing smile; "though I'm used to being ignored. No one pays any attention to my wishes."
The nurse stood at the head of the bed arranging the pillows beneath the old lady's shoulders.
"Is that comfortable now?" she asked.
Mrs. Greene made a gesture of annoyance.
"A lot you care whether I'm comfortable or not! Why can't you let me alone, nurse? You're always disturbing me. There was nothing wrong with the pillows. And I don't want you in here now anyway. Go and sit with Ada."
The nurse drew a long, patient breath, and went silently from the room, closing the door behind her.
Mrs. Greene reverted to her former ingratiating manner.
"No one understands my needs the way Ada does, Mr. Markham. What a relief it will be when the dear child gets well enough to care for me again! But I mustn't complain. The nurse does the best she knows how, I suppose.—Please sit down, gentlemen . . . yet what wouldn't I give if I could only stand up the way you can. No one realizes what it means to be a helpless paralytic."
Markham did not avail himself of the invitation, but waited until she had finished speaking and then said:
"Please believe that you have my deepest sympathy, madam. . . . You sent for me, Doctor Von Blon said."
"Yes!" She looked at him calculatingly. "I wanted to ask you a favor."
