le the Disagreeable Trustee watched her and growled to
himself.

"So splendid," she chirped, "the unanimous indorsement of the board--at
least, practically unanimous." And she eyed the widow of the Richest
Trustee accusingly.

"The incurable ward and Margaret MacLean have really been a terrible
responsibility, haven't they? I can't help feeling it will mean quite
a load off our minds." It was the Social Trustee who spoke, and she
followed it with a little sigh of relief.

The sigh was echoed twice--thrice--about the room. Then the Meanest
Trustee barked out:

"I hope it will mean a load off our purses. That ward and that nurse
have always wanted things, and had them, that they had no business
wanting. I hope we can save a substantial sum now for the endowment
fund."

The Oldest Trustee smiled tolerantly. "Of course it isn't as if the
cases were not hopeless. I can see no object, however, in making
concessions and sacrifices to keep in the hospital cases that cannot be
cured; and, no doubt, we can place them most satisfactorily in state
institutions for orphans or deficients."

At that moment the Youngest and Prettiest Trustee spied the primroses
on the President's desk--she had been too engrossed in the surgical
profession to observe much apart. "I believe I'm going to decorate
you." And she dimpled up at the Senior Surgeon, coquettishly.
Selecting one of the blossoms with great care, she drew it through the
buttonhole in his lapel. "See, I'm decorating you with the Order of
the Golden Primrose--for brilliancy." Whereupon she dropped her eyes
becomingly.

"Good Lord!" muttered the Disagreeable Trustee to the President, his
eye focused on the two. "She'll fetch him this time. And she'll have
him so hypnotized with all this chirping and dancing business that
he'll be perfectly helpless in a month, or I miss--"

The Youngest and Prettiest Trustee looked up just in time to intercept
that eye, and she attacked it with a saucy little stare. "I believe
you are both jealous," she flung over her shoulder. But the very next
moment she was dimpling again. "I believe I am going to decorate
everybody--including myself. I'm sure we all deserve it for our loyal
support of Science." She, likewise, always spelled it with a capital,
having acquired the habit from the Senior Surgeon.

She snatched a cluster of primroses from the green Devonshire bowl; and
one was fastened securely in the lapel or frill of ev