VIII.

On the morning of the 24th Glory rose at five, that she might get through
her work and have the entire day for her holiday. At that hour she came
upon a rough-haired nurse wearing her cap a little on one side and
washing a floor with disinfectants. Being in great spirits, Glory
addressed her cheerfully.

"Are you off to-day too?" she said.

The nurse gave her a contemptuous glance and answered: "I'm not one of
your paying probationers, Miss--playing probationers _I_ call them. We
nurses are hard-working women, whose life spells duty; and we've got no
time for sight-seeing and holiday-making."

"No, but you are one of those who ruin the profession altogether," said a
younger woman who had just come up. "They will expect everybody to do the
same. This is my day off, but I have to do the grate, and sweep the ward,
and make the bed, and tidy the Sister's room--and it's all through people
like you. Small thanks you get for it either, for a girl may not even
wear her hair in a fringe, and she is always expecting to hear the
matron's 'You're not fit for nursing, Miss.'"

Glory looked at her. She was an exquisitely pretty girl, with dark hair,
pink and ivory cheeks, and light-gray eyes; but her hands were coarse,
and her finger nails flat and square, and when you looked again there was
a certain blemished appearance about her beauty as of a Sevres vase that
is cracked somewhere.

"Do you say you are off to-day?" said Glory,

"Yes, I am; are you?"

"Yes, but I'm strange to London. Could you take me with you--if you are
going nowhere in particular?"

"Certainly, dear. I've noticed you before and wanted to speak to you.
You're the girl with the splendid name--Glory, isn't it?"

"Yes; what is yours?"

"Polly Love."

At ten o'clock that morning the two girls set out for their long day's
jaunt.

"Now where shall we go?" said Polly.

"Let's go where we can see a great many people," said Glory.

"That's easy enough, for this is the Queen's birthday, and----"

Glory thought of Aunt Rachel and made a cry of delight.

"And now that I think of it," said Polly, as if by a sudden memory, "I've
got tickets for the trooping of the colours--the Queen's colours, you
know."

"Shall we see her?" said Glory.

"What a question! Why, no, but we'll see the soldiers, and the generals,
and perhaps the Prince. It's at ten-thirty, and only across the park."

"Come along," said Glory, and she began to drag at her co