e."

"You believe in her?"

Hennessy pulled his hand free and shook his fist in Peter's face. "Bad
scran to ye for thinkin' aught else. 'Tis God's truth I'm tellin' ye, Mr.
Peter. I'm knowin' no more than them blitherin' tongues say, but I'd pray
our lass into heaven wi' my dyin' breath if I could."

Peter smiled. "You'd be doing better to pray her out of this miserable
little purgatory right here. If she belonged to me, Hennessy--"

"I wish to God she did, sir! But that's what ye can fight for--make her
belong."

"Easier said than done. Since Doctor Brainard came I can't get her to see
me. Read that!" Peter pulled out of his pocket a tiny folded note and
handed it to the swan-keeper. It was deciphered with much labor and read
with troubled seriousness.

Dear Mr. Brooks:

Thank you for the flowers, and the candy, and the many offers of the
car, but I haven't time to enjoy any of these things just now. So
please don't send me any more, or write, or try to see me. I think it
would be better for every one, and far happier in the end for you, if
you would go back to your work as soon as possible.

Faithfully yours,

SHEILA O'LEARY.

Hennessy snorted. "So that's what she thinks, is it? Well, don't ye do it.
'Twas betther advice I gave ye myself; hold fast here an' fight for her.
Mind that!" And with a farewell pull of his forelock Hennessy left him.

Peter watched him for an instant, then with a new purpose full-born in his
mind he turned and walked swiftly back to the sanitarium. He knew why the
management had sent for Brainard to come back to the San. The head surgeon
had been taken with typhoid; the wards were full of his special operative
cases, and Brainard, who had trained under him, was the most skilful man
available to take his place. But why had they put Sheila O'Leary on as his
surgical nurse? Why had they done this thing that was bound to revive the
old scandal and set tongues wagging anew? Peter knew that upon the answer
to this depended his decision. Would he take Sheila's advice and go, or
Hennessy's advice and fight?

He went directly to the office of the superintendent of nurses, and,
finding the door well ajar, he entered without knocking. Miss Maxwell was
seated at her desk. Across the desk, with clasped hands, cheeks aflame,
and lips compressed into a look of even greater determination than Peter
had seen there a few minutes before, leaned Sheila O'Lear