gged him to allow her to be of help.

"If Auntie is really going to be ill like she was before, let me be her
nurse," she implored. "I learnt a great deal at the ambulance classes,
and I'd carry out every single thing you told me."

"We'll see. I must examine my patient first," replied her old friend.

Dorothy sat on the stairs waiting with a beating heart while Dr. Longton
was in Miss Sherbourne's room. She sprang up eagerly as he came out, and
accompanied him to the porch. She hardly dared to ask for his verdict.

"Yes, it's a nasty return of the old trouble," said the doctor. "I'm
afraid she's in for a sharp attack, but luckily I was sent for in good
time, and may be able to stave things off a little. So you're anxious to
try your hand at nursing, young woman? Well, I don't see why you
shouldn't. You and Martha can manage quite well between you, if you'll
only carry out my directions absolutely to the letter. When I suggested
sending for a trained nurse, your aunt was very much against the
idea--begged me not to, in fact. Martha has a head on her shoulders, and
you're not a child now."

"I shall soon be fifteen," said Dorothy, drawing herself to her full
height.

"Well, here's your chance to show what you're worth. If you can manage
in this emergency, I shall have some opinion of you. I can telephone to
the Nursing Institution if I find it's too much for you."

"I hope that won't be necessary," replied Dorothy.

In that one hour she seemed to have suddenly grown years older, and to
have taken up a new burden of responsibility. Martha hardly knew her
when she entered the sick room, she seemed so unwontedly calm and
resourceful, yet withal so gentle, so tactful, and so deft and clever in
doing all that was required for the invalid.

"I'd no idea the bairn could be so helpful," murmured Martha to herself.
"If she goes on as well as she shapes, we'll do without a nurse, and
that'll ease Miss Sherbourne's mind. She can't afford two guineas a
week, let alone the woman's keep, and it would worry her to think of the
expense. As far as I'm concerned I don't want a nurse in the house,
making extra trouble and what waste goodness knows!"

The first thing Dorothy did when she could be spared from Aunt
Barbara's room was to find her blotter and write a letter to Vera
Norland. It ran thus:

"DEAR VERA,--Can you take the part of 'Queen of the Daffodils'
instead of me? My aunt is very ill, and I am afraid I shall