e like of each other now we're engaged," he
said, smiling with satisfaction.

"I wonder where the matron is," said Alvina, suddenly going into the
cool white corridor. He followed her. And they met the matron just
coming out of the ward.

"Matron!" said Dr. Mitchell, with a return of his old mouthing
importance. "You may congratulate Nurse Houghton and me on our
engagement--" He smiled largely.

"I may congratulate _you_, you mean," said the matron.

"Yes, of course. And both of us, since we are now one," he replied.

"Not quite, yet," said the matron gravely.

And at length she managed to get rid of him.

At once she went to look for Alvina, who had gone to her duties.

"Well, I _suppose_ it is all right," said the matron gravely.

"No it isn't," said Alvina. "I shall _never_ marry him."

"Ah, never is a long while! Did he hear me come in?"

"No, I'm sure he didn't."

"Thank goodness for that."

"Yes indeed! It was perfectly horrible. Following me round on his
knees and shouting for me to love him! Perfectly horrible!"

"Well," said the matron. "You never know what men will do till
you've known them. And then you need be surprised at nothing,
_nothing_. I'm surprised at nothing they do--"

"I must say," said Alvina, "I was surprised. Very unpleasantly."

"But you accepted him--"

"Anything to quieten him--like a hysterical child."

"Yes, but I'm not sure you haven't taken a very risky way of
quietening him, giving him what he wanted--"

"I think," said Alvina, "I can look after myself. I may be moved any
day now."

"Well--!" said the matron. "He may prevent your getting moved, you
know. He's on the board. And if he says you are indispensable--"

This was a new idea for Alvina to cogitate. She had counted on a
speedy escape. She put his ring in her apron pocket, and there she
forgot it until he pounced on her in the afternoon, in the house of
one of her patients. He waited for her, to take her off.

"Where is your ring?" he said.

And she realized that it lay in the pocket of a soiled, discarded
apron--perhaps lost for ever.

"I shan't wear it on duty," she said. "You know that."

She had to go to tea with him. She avoided his love-making, by
telling him any sort of spooniness revolted her. And he was too much
an old bachelor to take easily to a fondling habit--before marriage,
at least. So he mercifully left her alone: he was on the whole
devoutly thankful she wanted to be left alone. Bu