nk page of a letter. "Ready!"

"You are ready to write instructions? I have been keeping over a case
until your arrival, as it seemed in your line. It is urgent. Nice
people. Comfortable surroundings. You would stay in the house as a
guest. Can you go on first thing to-morrow?"

For one second, barely a second, Juliet hesitated; then the answer came,
short and sharp:

"I can!"

"That's good! Go to the station to-day, and look up your route. There
will be several changes. Have you your pencil? Write down
`Maplestone--Antony Maplestone.' Have you got it? `The Low House.'
L-o-w. `Nunkton.' N-u-n-k-t-o-n. `Great Morley.' `Maplestone, The
Low House, Nunkton, Great Morley.' Have you got that? Go on to-morrow
by the first train. I will wire to Mr Maplestone to expect you. He
will explain the case. Are you all right for money? Take your best
clothes, as for a country visit. Report to me in the course of a week.
Do your best. Good chance for you. (Yes, I've nearly finished. I've
not had my three minutes.) You understand, Miss White? You quite
understand?"

"I quite understand," said Juliet, and sat down heavily on the chair
beside the receiver.

How had it happened? How much was she to blame? From the moment of
that first interruption it seemed as if she had had no chance to
explain. Without any preconceived intention of taking the injured
girl's place, she had done so, as it were, without volition of her own.
The spirit of adventure, so long nourished, had grasped at the
opportunity, before the slower brain had had time to decide on its
action.

Juliet drew a deep breath, and stared with dilated eyes at the opposite
wall. "How _could_ I?" she asked herself, breathlessly. "How _dared_
I? How _can_ I?" And then, with a bursting laugh, "_But I will_!" she
cried, and leaped nimbly to her feet.

"Urgent! Nice people! Good chance! A guest in the house!" Her lips
moved in repetition of the different phrases as she walked rapidly back
in the direction of the hospital. She knitted her brows in the effort
to understand, to reconcile contradictions. What was this Alice White,
and on what mission had she crossed the ocean? And who was Eighty-one,
Grosvenor, who issued orders as to a subordinate, and gave instructions
as to reports?

Only one thing seemed certain, and that was that it would be many a long
day, if ever, before poor Alice White was fit to take up any work,
however intere