e nurse we
have in the sanitarium. Please take it, Leerie."

The girl stiffened under the two hands placed on her shoulders, while
something indescribably baffling and impenetrable took possession of her
whole being. Her voice became almost curt. "Sorry, can't. Bargain, you
know. Wouldn't have come back at all if you hadn't promised I should not
be asked to take those cases."

"I'll not ask you to take another, but you know how I feel about any
patient Doctor Dempsy sends to us. Anything I can do means paying back a
little on the great debt I owe him, the debt of a wonderful training.
That's why I ask--this once." A look almost fanatical came into the face
of the superintendent.

The girl smiled wistfully up at her. "Wish I could! Honest I do, Miss Max!
I'd fight for the life of any patient under the old San roof--man, woman,
or child; but I'll not baby-tend unhealthy-minded young men. You know as
well as I how it's always been: they lose their heads and I my
temper--results, the same. I end by telling them just what I think; they
pay their bills and leave the same day. The San loses a perfectly good
annual patient, and the business office feels sore at me. No, I'm no good
at frequent pulses and cerebral massage; leave that to Coppy."

There was no stinging sarcasm in the girl's voice. She reached out an
impulsive hand and slipped it into one of the older woman's, leaving it
there long enough to give it a quick, firm grip. "Remember, it's only
three years--and it takes so little to set tongues wagging again. So let's
stick fast to the bargain, dear; only nervous old ladies or the bad
surgical cases."

"Very well. Only--if you could change your mind, let me know. In the mean
time I'll put Miss Saunders on," and the superintendent turned away,
troubled and unsatisfied.

An hour later Sheila O'Leary came upon Miss Saunders with her new patient,
and the patient was the man of the omnibus--the man with the haunting,
deep-set eyes. Unnoticed, she watched them sitting on a bench by the pond,
the nurse droning aloud from a book, the man sagging listlessly, plainly
hearing nothing and seeing nothing. The picture set Sheila O'Leary
shuddering. If it was a case of 'phobia, God help the poor man with
Saunders coupled to his nerves! Cumbersome, big-hearted, and hopelessly
dull, Saunders was incapable of nursing with tactful insight a
nerve-racked man. In the whole wide realm of disease there seemed nothing
more tragic to Shei