. From her Spanish mother she had learned to
please the man, not herself. She guessed that Dr. Max would wish her to
be inconspicuous, and she dressed accordingly. Then, being a cautious
person, she disarranged her bed slightly and thumped a hollow into
her pillow. The nurses' rooms were subject to inspection, and she had
pleaded a headache.

She was exactly on time. Dr. Max, driving up to the corner five minutes
late, found her there, quite matter-of-fact but exceedingly handsome,
and acknowledged the evening's adventure much to his taste.

"A little air first, and then supper--how's that?"

"Air first, please. I'm very tired."

He turned the car toward the suburbs, and then, bending toward her,
smiled into her eyes.

"Well, this is life!"

"I'm cool for the first time to-day."

After that they spoke very little. Even Wilson's superb nerves had
felt the strain of the afternoon, and under the girl's dark eyes were
purplish shadows. She leaned back, weary but luxuriously content.

"Not uneasy, are you?"

"Not particularly. I'm too comfortable. But I hope we're not seen."

"Even if we are, why not? You are going with me to a case. I've driven
Miss Simpson about a lot."

It was almost eight when he turned the car into the drive of the White
Springs Hotel. The six-to-eight supper was almost over. One or two motor
parties were preparing for the moonlight drive back to the city. All
around was virgin country, sweet with early summer odors of new-cut
grass, of blossoming trees and warm earth. On the grass terrace over the
valley, where ran Sidney's unlucky river, was a magnolia full of creamy
blossoms among waxed leaves. Its silhouette against the sky was quaintly
heart-shaped.

Under her mask of languor, Carlotta's heart was beating wildly. What an
adventure! What a night! Let him lose his head a little; she could keep
hers. If she were skillful and played things right, who could tell? To
marry him, to leave behind the drudgery of the hospital, to feel safe as
she had not felt for years, that was a stroke to play for!

The magnolia was just beside her. She reached up and, breaking off one
of the heavy-scented flowers, placed it in the bosom of her black dress.

Sidney and K. Le Moyne were dining together. The novelty of the
experience had made her eyes shine like stars. She saw only the magnolia
tree shaped like a heart, the terrace edged with low shrubbery, and
beyond the faint gleam that was the river. For