ery trustee, not
even omitting the gray wisp of a woman by the door.

And so it came to pass that every member of the board of Saint
Margaret's Free Hospital for Children went home on May Eve with one of
the faeries' own flowers tucked somewhere about his or her person.
Moreover, they went home at precisely three minutes and twenty-two
seconds past seven by the clock on the tower--the astronomical time for
the sun to go down on the 30th of April. Crack went all the
combination locks on all the faery raths, spilling the Little People
over all the world; and creak went the gates of Tir-na-n'Og, swinging
wide open for wandering mortals to come back.

As the trustees left the hospital the Senior Surgeon turned into the
cross-corridor for his case, still gay with his Order of the Golden
Primrose; and there, at the foot of the stairs, he ran into Margaret
MacLean. They faced each other for the merest fraction of a breath,
both conscious and embarrassed; then she glimpsed the flower in his
coat and a cry of surprise escaped her.

He smiled, almost foolishly. "I thought they--it--looked rather pretty
and--spring-like," he began, by way of explanation. His teeth ground
together angrily; he sounded absurd, and he knew it. Furthermore, it
was inexcusable of her to corner him in this fashion.

Now Margaret MacLean knew well enough that he would never have
discovered the prettiness of anything by himself--not in a century of
springtimes, and she sensed the truth.

"Did she decorate you?" she inquired, with an irritating little curl of
her lips. The Senior Surgeon's self-confessed blush lent speed to her
tongue. "I think I might be privileged to ask what it was for. You
see, I presented the flowers to the board meeting. Was it for
self-sacrifice?" Her eyes challenged his.

"You are capable of talking more nonsense and being more impertinent
than any nurse I have ever known. May I pass?" His eyes returned her
challenge, blazing.

But she never moved; the mind-string once broken, there seemed to be no
limit to the thoughts that could come tumbling off the end of her
tongue. Her eyes went back to the flower in his coat.

"Perhaps you would like to know that I bought those this morning
because they seemed the very breath of spring itself--a bit of promise
and gladness. I thought they would keep the day going right."

"Well, they have--for me." And the Senior Surgeon could not resist a
look of triumph.

"The tr