nother box
for the whole family. Again the mother wrote me a letter of thanks, but
it didn't sound sincere to me this time, and when in closing she said
that Jerry, her husband, thought I might at least have included a plug
of tobacco for him, I made up my mind that all they wanted was what they
could get out of me."

"So you didn't send them any more dolls and Bibles," Peace soliloquized,
when the nurse paused in her narrative.

"They didn't appreciate them," Miss Wayne answered wistfully. "One
doesn't enjoy being liked for one's money. I want folks to like _me_."

The little invalid lay with intent eyes fixed upon the ceiling while she
reviewed the story she had just heard; then she said gravely, "I think
it was Jerry who wrote for the plug of tobacco."

"Jerry!"

"Well, Mr. Martin, I mean."

"But Mrs. Martin wrote the letter."

"I'll bet he was peeking over her shoulder and made her put in about
that plug of tobacco, just the same," Peace persisted. "I b'lieve Essie
and her mother really cared. 'Twas him that wanted just your money. Some
women get married to some awful mean men."

"Yes," sighed the nurse, more to herself than for Peace's benefit. "That
is very true, and Jerry was one of them."

"There are lots of nice men, though," Peace hastened to add, for Miss
Wayne's face looked so unusually grave and sad. "There's Grandpa and
St. John, and--and Dr. Dick. _He_ isn't married yet, either. Neither is
Dr. Race, is he? When I was in the sun parlor yesterday afternoon, I
heard one of the nurses tell that new special that Miss Swift had set
her _trap_ for Dr. Race. What did she mean? It sounded like they thought
he was a mouse--"

"Hush! O, Peace! You misunderstood. You mustn't repeat such things.
It--I--oh, dear, what can I say?"

"Well, I 'xpect they meant that Miss Swift is trying to marry Dr. Race,
and I s'pose the rest are jealous. Frances Sherrar is going to be
married to one of the professors at the University, and I heard Gail
telling Grandma how jealous some of the girls are. I s'pose it's the
same with the nurses. Only I sh'd hate to see Dr. Race marry Miss Swift
'cause I don't like her. She's too snippy. Why didn't you ever get
married? You're so nice and--and--"

Miss Wayne's face had flushed a brilliant crimson, and hastily gathering
up soap and towels, she made ready for a hurried flight, but found her
way blocked by a stalwart figure in the doorway, whose twinkling eyes
and smiling lips be