he
flower-seller set to shaking his head sorrowfully.

"Perhaps not. There are the children--"

"Aye, the childher; but the most o' them be's gettin' too terrible
wise."

"I know--I know--but mine aren't. I'm going to take my children back
as many as I can carry." She stretched both hands about a mass of
stems--all they could compass. "See"--she held up a giant bunch--"so
much happiness is worth a great deal. Feel in the pocket of my apron
and you will find--gold for gold. It was the only money I had in my
purse. Keep it all, please." With a nod and a smile she left him,
dancing her way back along the still deserted street.

"'Tis the faeries' own day, afther all," chuckled the flower-seller as
he eyed the tiny gold disk in his palm; then he remembered, and called
after the diminishing figure of the nurse: "Hey, there! Mind what ye
do wi' them blossoms. They be's powerful strong magic." And he
chuckled again.

The hall-boy, shorn of uniform and dignity, was outside, polishing
brasses, when Margaret MacLean reached the hospital door. She stopped
for an interchange of grins and greetings.

"Mornin', Miss Peggie."

"Morning, Patsy."

He was "Patrick" to the rest of Saint Margaret's; no one else seemed to
realize that he was only about one-fifth uniform and the other fifths
were boy--small boy at that.

She eyed his work critically. "That's right--polish them well, Patsy.
They must shine especially bright to-day."

"Why, what's happenin' to-day?"

"Oh--everything, and--nothing at all."

And she passed on through the door with a most mysterious smile,
thereby causing Patsy to mentally comment:

"My, don't she beat all! More'n half the time a feller don't know what
she's kiddin' about; but, gee! don't he like it!"

As it happened the primroses did not get as far as Ward C then.
Margaret MacLean found the door of the board-room ajar, and, glancing
in, looked square into the eyes of the Founder of Saint Margaret's,
where he hung in his great gold frame--silent and questioning.

"If all the tales they tell about you are true, you must wonder what
has happened to Saint Margaret's since you turned it over to a board of
trustees."

She went in and stood close to him, smiling wistfully. "Perhaps you
would like me to leave you the primroses until after the meeting--they
would be sure to cheer you up; and they might--they might--" Laughing,
she went over to the President's desk and put the flowers