together in the little side-room, empty but for its
hospital stores, where they had so often consulted, with and without Dr.
Capes, on the condition of the ward. There was no longer any fluster of
doubt and hesitation in his manner. He stood there in his young comely
manhood, prepared to put his fate to the test, claiming his right to do
so, and challenging her to deny his claim.

In a moment Annie saw what Rose had seen some time ago, but had not
taken it upon her to put in so many words for Annie's benefit. It was
of this moment she had, by an unerring instinct, stood in mortal
terror, from the first dawn of her acquaintance with Harry Ironside,
to the afternoon when he had succeeded in getting an introduction to
her in the matron's room at St. Ebbe's, soon after the scene in the
operating theatre. Then he had bowed low, muttered a few words in
confused greeting, and looked at her with all his man's heart in his
eyes; and she had felt by a sure, swift intuition, that, as she valued
her dearly held personal freedom and her allegiance to her family,
there must be war to the knife between her and this self-willed young
man. She must, as discretion is the better part of valour, flee from
him, while refusing to own, even to herself, any more humiliating
reason for the flight than her duty, the honour of St. Ebbe's, and the
folly of Rose in playing into his hands.

Now Annie was caught, and had to listen to him whether she would or not,
while she and not he quaked with fright and agitation. For he stood
before her, like a conqueror already, in the little room with its
shelves of phials, which they had all to themselves, where burly farmers
and iron-gray corn-factors would soon be thronging in the course of
transacting their every-day business.

But presently she forgot all about herself in the interest of the tale
he had to tell, and told well in his newly-found courage and coolness,
in his personal modesty and professional enthusiasm. He had just taken
his degree as she knew. He and his sister Kate had inherited a
competence from their parents. He might look about him till he found a
lucrative and agreeable country practice in a choice neighbourhood,
where he could command good society and a little hunting, shooting, and
fishing in their seasons. Or he might be on the watch for a West End
London practice, which, while affording him all the interests and
amusements of town, ought to bring him speedily into notice, and ra