him."

"But, Kit," stammered the mystified man, "how--why--what?"

"O," she laughed a little sheepishly, "that rude, out-spoken creature in
the wheel-chair by the window where you left me told me that I ought to
adopt him, and I'm not sure but that she is right."

"She is not rude," the doctor suddenly contradicted, a vision of the
brown-eyed idol of the hospital flashing up before him. "She merely
believes in voicing her thoughts; but she is the essence of compassion
and love. She would not want to wound another's feelings for anything in
the world."

"Well, anyway, she certainly can wake folks up," the woman insisted.

"Thank God for that," said the man under his breath, and leaving the
nurses to rescue what of the luckless postage stamps they could, he
conducted Keturah and happy little Billy Bolee to his car, waiting at
the curb.

CHAPTER XV

THE RING THAT BUILT A HOSPITAL

It was a hot June night. Not a breath of air was stirring, and in the
great Danbury Hospital every window was opened its widest. Yet the
patients lay panting and sweltering on their cots. Peace, in her room,
tossed and turned restlessly, dozed a few minutes, then wakened, changed
her position, trying to find a cooler spot, and finally in desperation,
raised her hand and jerked the bell-cord dangling at the head of her
bed. She could hear the answering whir in the hall outside, but no one
came to minister to her wants, and after an impatient wait of a few
seconds, she repeated the summons.

Still no one came.

"What in creation can be the matter with Miss Hays, I wonder," she
muttered, and savagely pulled the cord for the third time.

There was a faint patter of rapid steps through the corridor, and the
night nurse, flushed and perspiring, flew into the room. "What is it?"
she asked crisply, mopping her warm face after a hasty survey of the
small patient.

"O," exclaimed Peace in relief. "It's you at last! I thought you were
never coming. Is it hot outside tonight, or is it just me that's hot?"

Poor, hurried, steaming Miss Hays glared down at the tumbled figure on
the bed, and snapped, "It's _me_ that's hot! Did you chase me clear down
two flights of stairs just to ask that question?"

"You _do_ look warm," said Peace in conciliatory tones, not quite
understanding the cause of Miss Hays' evident wrath.

"I _am_ warm,--decidedly warm under the collar!" Suddenly the funny side
of the situation burst upon her, and she laug