gun in Saint Margaret's as house surgeon; and he had grown to be
considered by many of his own profession the leading man of his day.
The trustees were as proud of him as they were of the hospital, and it
has never been recorded in the traditions of Saint Margaret's that the
Senior Surgeon had ever asked for anything that went ungranted. He
seldom attended a board meeting; consequently when he came in at
five-thirty there was an audible rustle of excitement and the raising
of anticipatory eyebrows.
When the President called the meeting to order every trustee was
present, as well as the heads of the four wards, the Superintendent,
and the two surgeons. The Senior Surgeon sat next to the President;
the House Surgeon sat where he could watch equally well the profiles of
the Youngest and Prettiest Trustee and Margaret MacLean. His heart had
always been inclined to intermit; or--as he put it to himself--he
adored them both in quite opposite ways; and which way was the better
and more endurable he had never been able to decide.
"In view of the fact," said the President, rising, "that the Senior
Surgeon can be with us but a short time this afternoon, and that he has
a grave and vital issue to present to you, we will postpone the regular
reports until the end of the meeting and take up at once the business
in hand." He paused a moment, feeling the dramatic value of his next
remark. "For some time the Senior Surgeon has seriously questioned
the--hmm--advisability of continuing the incurable ward. He wishes
very much to bring the matter before you, and he is prepared to give
you his reasons for so doing. Afterward, I think it would be wise for
us to discuss the matter very informally." He bowed to the Senior
Surgeon and sat down.
The Meanest Trustee snapped his teeth together in an expression of grim
satisfaction. "That ward is costing a lot of unnecessary expense, I
think," he barked out, sharply, "and it's being run with altogether too
free a hand." And he looked meaningly toward Margaret MacLean.
No one paid any particular attention to his remark; they were too
deeply engrossed in the Senior Surgeon. And the House Surgeon,
watching, saw the profile of the Youngest and Prettiest Trustee become
even prettier as it blushed and turned in witching eagerness toward the
man who was rising to address the meeting. The other profile had
turned rigid and white as a piece of marble.
Now the Senior Surgeon could do a
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