must have been one, of course,
because of the Pet. Jack says he's dead, but she is not in mourning,
and the mother doesn't wear widow's things. I say he's gone a tour
round the world, and is buying presents at every port so as to pamper
her more than ever when he comes back."

Dr Trevor looked a trifle mystified, but he was accustomed to his
children's mental flights, and, after a moment's consideration, he
replied smilingly--

"If you mean Number 14, the tenant is a certain Major Alliot, who is at
present, I believe, with his regiment in India. I don't know anything
about his household, or the identity of the `Pet,' as you are pleased to
call her."

"I wish she'd fall downstairs, or have an accident of some sort
suddenly, so that they'd have to fly across for you in a hurry," sighed
Jill with frank brutality. "I wish all the people in that row would
have accidents, so that you could tell us all about them. We are dying
with curiosity!"

"Wouldn't influenza do as well? There is no need to be quite so brutal,
Jill," her father reminded her. "Besides, it is hardly my usual custom
to tell you `all about' my cases, is it? I should be very glad to find
new patients nearer here for my own sake; which reminds me, dear, that I
have to go a long drive after dinner, and shan't be home for the
evening, as I hoped. It is unfortunate having so many late nights this
week."

Mrs Trevor's brow shadowed for a moment, but she recovered herself, and
smiled bravely at her husband, while Betty cried emphatically--

"I shall never marry a doctor!"

"Lucky beggar! He's had an escape anyway!" growled Miles beneath his
breath, quite unable to resist paying Betty back for her attack on him a
few moments before, and Betty laughed as merrily as the rest at the joke
against herself.

"Well, I shall have an escape too! I don't like ill people or having
anything to do with them; it's not my vocation!" she announced
grandiloquently, and her face fell with dismay when her father said
cheerily--

"Oh, come, you don't do yourself justice, dear. I always find you a
very acceptable little nurse. Mrs Ewen was asking for you only to-day.
I should be glad if you would make a point of going to see her some
afternoon this week, and trying to amuse her for an hour or two. She
has had a very sharp attack, poor soul."

"Yes, father," assented Betty meekly, but mentally she ground her teeth.

Mrs Ewen was an old patient, a tiresome pat