er I was engaged to Mr. F. I had a dreadful
attack of brain fever. I was ill in bed three months and they couldn't
touch a brush to my hair for nine days."

Mrs. D. } "Horrors!"
Mrs. E. } "Dreadful!"
Mrs. C. } "Heavens!"

Mrs. G. (bravely). "Just after my youngest child was three--"

Mrs. X. "A man patient was brought on to our floor this morning."

Mrs. S. "_Our_ floor? I wish they _would_ have separate corridors for
male patients."

Mrs. X. "This gentleman is an old friend of Dr. Levi's. His wife has
been here four weeks, and now he's been taken ill, so they've put him
next her on the first floor."

Mrs. S. "I don't care, I hate to have him near us."

Mrs. B. "Why? He's perfectly harmless; he is too ill to move."

Mrs. C. "I'm sure I wish he could! Anything to relieve this hideous
dullness. What's the matter with him, I wonder!"

Mrs. D. "I'll ask Miss Oaks when I have my hot fomentations this
afternoon; she knows everything and she's as generous as a prince with
her knowledge."

Mrs. G. (patiently). "Just after my youngest child was--"

A nurse passes through the grove, bearing a sterilized tray with
peptonized preparations on it.

Mrs. Y. (calling her). "Nurse! what's the matter with the new
man-patient on our floor?"

Nurse (discreetly). "I don't know, Mrs. Y."

Mrs. X. (as the nurse vanishes). "She does, but she's a stiff thing!
Anyway, I heard the attendants whispering about him in the corridor
before breakfast. Something--I think it's an organ--is floating about
in him."

All. "_Floating?_ What kind of an organ? Horrors!"

Mrs. X. "I couldn't understand exactly. You know people always roar if
they have nothing particular to say, but if it is interesting they
whisper. I distinctly heard the word '_floating_.' I don't know
whether it's one of his regular organs, or something he swallowed
accidentally."

Mrs. C. (plaintively). "Doctors are never satisfied. If anything
floats they want to get it stationary, and if it's stationary they
want to cut it loose."

Mrs. G. "_Just after my youngest child_--"

Mrs. B. "They say Mrs. H. is going to leave to-morrow; she doesn't
like the food or the service."

Mrs. E. "Goodness, she has all the service there is on our floor!
Nobody else gets a chance! She spends her whole silent hour pushing
the electric button."

Mrs. D. "Yes, Miss Oaks declares she 'lays' on it. She says that the
head nurse told Mrs. H. she must ring less frequently, or the bell