"Would you promise not to make any noise?"

"Promise on m' heart! I'll have 'em all asleep quicker 'n nothin'. Ye
see, just."

"Very well. I'll be back after supper to see if the promise has been
kept." She stooped, brushed away the curls, and kissed the little
white forehead. "Oh, Bridget! Bridget! no matter what happens, always
remember to keep happy!"

"Sure an' I will," agreed Bridget; and she watched the nurse go out,
much puzzled.

VI

THE PRIMROSE RING

Bridget, oldest of the ward, general caretaker and best beloved,
hunched herself up on her pillows until she was sitting reasonably
straight, and clapped her hands. "Whist!" she called, softly. "Whist
there, all o' ye! What's ailin'?"

Eight woebegone pairs of eyes turned in her direction.

"Ye needn't be afeared o' speakin'. Miss Peggie give us leave to talk
quiet."

"It's them trusters," wailed Peter. "They come a-peekin' round to see
we don't get well."

"They alters calls us 'uncurables,'" moaned Susan.

"Pig of water-drinking Americans!" came from the last cot.

"Ye shut up, Michael! Who did ye ever hear say that?"

"Mine fader." And Michael spat in a perfect imitation thereof.

"Well, don't ye ever say it ag'in--do ye hear? Miss Peggie's American,
and so's the House Surgeon, an' it's the next best thing to bein'
Irish--which every one can't be, the Lord knows. Now them trusters is
heathen, an' they don't know nothin' more'n heathen, an' we ought to be
easy on 'em for bein' so ignorant."

"They ken us 'll nae mair be gettin' weel," said Sandy, mournfully.

"Aw, ye're talkin' foolish entirely. What do ye think that C on the
door means?"

A silence, significant of much brain-racking, followed.

"C stands for children," announced Susan, triumphantly.

"Aye, it does that, but there be's somethin' more."

"Crutches," suggested Pancho, tentatively.

"Aw, go on wid ye," laughed Bridget. "Ye're 'way off." She paused a
moment impressively. "C means 'cured.' '_Childher Cured_,' that's
what! Now all we've got to do is to forget trusters an' humps an'
pains an' them disagreeable things, an' think o' somethin' pleasant."

"Ain't nothin' pleasant ter think of in er horspital," wailed John, the
present disheartenment clouding over all past happiness.

"Ain't, neither," agreed James.

"Aye, there be," contradicted Sandy. "Dinna ye ken the wee gray woman
'at cam creepity round an' smiled?"

"She was nice," said Susa