dacity she
found herself listening to his suggestion that she marry Caleb Patten
and become a sort of head nurse in an institution which he would found!

In spite of her she was moved to sudden, impulsive laughter. She had
not meant to laugh at the man who might be sincere, who, it was
possible, was merely a fool. But laugh she did, so that her mirth
reached Rod Norton where he lay upon his bed and made him stir
restlessly.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Patten, a flush in his cheeks.

"I mean," stammered Virginia at last, "that I thank you very much, Dr.
Patten, but that I can avail myself of neither the opportunity of being
your wife or your head nurse. As for my inability to do for myself
what I have set out to accomplish . . . well, I am not afraid yet.
There is work to be done here and I don't quite agree with you that
it's all man's work. There's always a little left over for a woman,
you know," she added brightly.

But Patten was obviously angered. He flung to his feet and glared down
at her. Perhaps it had not entered his thought that she could make
other than the answer he wanted; it had been very clear to him that he
was offering to become responsible for one who was embarked upon a
voyage already destined to failure, that he would support her, merely
doing as many other men of his ilk did and make her work for all that
she got.

"It's silly nonsense, your thinking you can make a living here," he
said irritably. "I'm already established, I'm a man, I can have all of
the cases I want, you'll get only a few breeds who haven't a dollar to
the dozen of them. If you are already broke and can't even pay for
your room and board . . ."

"Who told you that?" she asked quickly.

"I can hear, can't I?" he demanded coarsely. "Didn't you go just now
to beg Struve to hold you over? And . . ."

She slipped out of her chair and stood a moment staring coldly and
contemptuously at him. Then she was gone, leaving Patten watching her
departure incredulously.

"A man who hasn't any more sense than Caleb Patten," she cried within
herself, "has no business with a physician's license. It's a sheer
wonder he didn't kill Roderick Norton!"

Already she had forgotten her words with Struve, or rather the matter
for the present was shoved aside in her mind by another. She had come
here to make good, she had her fight before her, and she was going to
make good. She had to . . . for herself, for her own prid