ng!--Oh, Mrs.
Waring-Gaunt, you don't say so? How terrible! Isn't it good that Dr.
Brown is coming? He will know exactly what is wrong.--Oh, I am so
sorry to hear that. Sleeplessness is so trying.--Yes--Yes--Oh, Mrs.
Waring-Gaunt, I am afraid I couldn't do that." Kathleen's face had
flushed bright crimson. "But I am sure Mother would be so glad to go,
and she is a perfectly wonderful nurse. She knows just what to do.--Oh,
I am afraid not. Wait, please, a moment."

"What does she want?" asked Nora.

Kathleen covered the transmitter with her hand. "She wants me to go and
sit with Mr. Romayne while she drives you to the station. I cannot,
I cannot do that. Where is Mother? Oh, Mother, I cannot go to Mrs.
Waring-Gaunt's. I really cannot."

"What nonsense, Kathleen!" cried Nora impatiently. "Why can't you go,
pray? Let me speak to her." She took the receiver from her sister's
hand. "Yes, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, it is Nora.--I beg your pardon?--Oh, yes,
certainly, one of us will be glad to go.--No, no, certainly not. I would
not have Mr. Waring-Gaunt leave his work for the world.--I know, I
know, awfully slow for him. We had not heard of the change. It is too
bad.--Yes, surely one of us will be glad to come. We will fix it up some
way. Good-bye."

Nora hung up the receiver and turned fiercely upon her sister. "Now,
what nonsense is this," she said, "and she being so nice about the car,
and that poor man suffering there, and we never even heard that he
was worse? He was doing so splendidly, getting about all right.
Blood-poisoning is so awful. Why, you remember the Mills boy? He almost
lost his arm."

"Oh, my dear Nora," said her mother. "There is no need of imagining
such terrible things, but I am glad Dr. Brown is to be here. It is quite
providential. I am sure he will put poor Mr. Romayne right. Kathleen,
dear," continued the mother, turning to her elder daughter, "I think
it would be very nice if you would run over to-morrow while Mrs.
Waring-Gaunt drives to the station. I am sure it is very kind of her."

"I know it is, Mother dear," said Kathleen. "But don't you think you
would be so much better?"

"Oh, rubbish!" cried Nora. "If it were not Jane that is coming, I would
go myself; I would only be too glad to go. He is perfectly splendid, so
patient, and so jolly too, and Kathleen, you ought to go."

"Nora, dear, we won't discuss it," said the mother in the tone that the
family knew meant the end of all conversation.