nstruments; the nurses were busy on the hundred and one tasks of
clearing up; so he had a chance for a word with her alone.

"I am proud of you, Sidney; you came through it like a soldier."

"You made it very hard for me."

A nurse was coming toward him; he had only a moment.

"I shall leave a note in the mail-box," he said quickly, and proceeded
with the scrubbing of his hands which signified the end of the day's
work.

The operations had lasted until late in the afternoon. The night nurses
had taken up their stations; prayers were over. The internes were
gathered in the smoking-room, threshing over the day's work, as was
their custom. When Sidney was free, she went to the office for the note.
It was very brief:--

I have something I want to say to you, dear. I think you know what it
is. I never see you alone at home any more. If you can get off for an
hour, won't you take the trolley to the end of Division Street? I'll be
there with the car at eight-thirty, and I promise to have you back by
ten o'clock.

MAX.

The office was empty. No one saw her as she stood by the mail-box. The
ticking of the office clock, the heavy rumble of a dray outside, the
roll of the ambulance as it went out through the gateway, and in her
hand the realization of what she had never confessed as a hope, even to
herself! He, the great one, was going to stoop to her. It had been in
his eyes that afternoon; it was there, in his letter, now.

It was eight by the office clock. To get out of her uniform and into
street clothing, fifteen minutes; on the trolley, another fifteen. She
would need to hurry.

But she did not meet him, after all. Miss Wardwell met her in the upper
hall.

"Did you get my message?" she asked anxiously.

"What message?"

"Miss Harrison wants to see you. She has been moved to a private room."

Sidney glanced at K.'s little watch.

"Must she see me to-night?"

"She has been waiting for hours--ever since you went to the
operating-room."

Sidney sighed, but she went to Carlotta at once. The girl's condition
was puzzling the staff. There was talk of "T.R."--which is hospital for
"typhoid restrictions." But T.R. has apathy, generally, and Carlotta
was not apathetic. Sidney found her tossing restlessly on her high white
bed, and put her cool hand over Carlotta's hot one.

"Did you send for me?"

"Hours ago." Then, seeing her operating-room uniform: "You've been
THERE, have you?"

"Is there anything I can