tub in the centre stood
the Christmas tree, ornamented with coloured glass balls and tiny flags.
Some of the parcels, tied up with scarlet ribbons, were hanging from the
branches, but the greater number were piled underneath.

Marjorie looked round with tremendous interest. She had never before
been inside a hospital of any kind, and a military one particularly
appealed to her. Each of the patients had fought at the front, and had
been wounded for his King and his Country. England owed them a debt of
gratitude, and nothing that could be done seemed too much to repay it.
Her thoughts flew to Bevis, Leonard, and Larry. Would they ever be
brought to a place like this and nursed by strangers?

"You'd like to go round and see some of the Tommies, wouldn't you?"
asked Elaine.

Marjorie agreed with enthusiasm, and Dona less cordially. The
latter--silly little goose!--was always scared at the idea of wounds and
hospitals, and she was feeling somewhat sick and faint at the sight of
so many invalids, though she did not dare to confess such foolishness
for fear of being laughed at. She allowed Marjorie to go first, and
followed with rather white cheeks. She was so accustomed to play second
fiddle that nobody noticed.

The patients were looking very cheerful, and smiled broadly on their
visitors. They were evidently accustomed to being shown off by their
nurses. Some were shy and would say nothing but "Yes", "No", or "Thank
you"; and others were conversational. Elaine introduced them like a
proud little mother.

"This is Peters; he keeps us all alive in this ward. He's lost his right
leg, but he's going on very well, and takes it sporting, don't you,
Peters?"

"Rather, Nurse," replied Peters, a freckled, sandy-haired young fellow
of about twenty-five. "Only I wish it had been the other leg. You see,"
he explained to the visitors, "my right leg was fractured at the
beginning of the war, and I was eighteen months in hospital with it at
Harpenden, and they were very proud of making me walk again. Then, soon
after I got back to the front, it was blown off, and I felt they'd
wasted their time over it at Harpenden!"

"It was too bad," sympathized Marjorie.

"Jackson has lost his right leg too," said Elaine, passing on to the
next bed. "He was wounded on sentry duty. He'd been out since the
beginning of the war, and had not had a scratch till then. And he'd
been promised his leave the very next day. Hard luck, wasn't it?"

"Th