d man said to the vicar when he heard of Solomon's wives, you are a
highly privileged Christian. You can't deny that, since you've said it
twice. Praises be, here is tea. Come on; come on, Tommy. Oh, Tommy, this
is the Very Reverend Peter Graham. Mr. Graham, this is one Raynard,
commonly known as Tommy, my half-section, so try to be polite."

There was a general movement, and Peter shook hands as he got up. The
other girl struck him at once as a good sort.

"You're booked to take us to tea, I suppose?" she said. "Julie's far more
practical than you'd imagine, padre."

They left the row of chairs together, Julie well in front and apparently
forgetful of their existence. As they came abreast of the empty bed,
Peter noticed that the assistant matron had gone, and that Donovan was
drifting in the stream alongside her in front. But before they were out
of the great ward, Julie and he were laughing together. Peter felt
absurdly hurt, and hated himself for feeling it. The other girl was
talking at his elbow, but he made ridiculous and commonplace replies and
hardly noticed her. She broke off at last abruptly, and he roused himself
to carry on. He caught her expression, and somehow or other it landed him
deeper in the business. He made a deliberate move.

"Where are you going after this?" he asked.

"Down town to do some shopping; then I suppose home, unless a fit seizes
Julie and we run a risk once more of being summarily repatriated."

He laughed. "Does that often happen?"

"Quite often. You see ours is an English hospital, though we are South
Africans attached to it. I think they're much more strict than Colonial
hospitals. But they give us more latitude than the rest, at any rate.
Julie had a fearful row once, and simply declared she would do some
things, and since then they turn a blind eye occasionally. But there are
limits, and one day she'll step over them--I know she will."

"Let's hope not," said Peter; "but now let me get you some tea."

The little room was packed, but Peter got through somehow and made his
way to a series of tables spread with cakes and sandwiches. He got a cup
and seized a plate, and shouldered his way back. In the crush he saw only
the top of Miss Raynard's head, and made for that. "Here you are," he
said cheerfully, as he emerged. "Have a sandwich?"

"Thanks," she said as she took it; "but why didn't you bring two cups?"

"Why?" he asked.

She nodded towards a corner and there was Jul