"That is, if you want me, I can return. But, Mr. Dalmain, I
intend to-night to write that letter of which I told you. I shall post
it to-morrow. I must follow it up almost immediately. I must be with
him when he receives it, or soon afterwards. I think--I hope--he will
want me at once. This is Monday. May I go on Thursday?"

Poor Garth looked blankly dismayed.

"Do nurses, as a rule, leave their patients, and rush off to their
young men in order to find out how they have liked their letters?" he
inquired, in mock protest.

"Not as a rule, sir," replied Nurse Rosemary, demurely. "But this is an
exceptional case."

"I shall wire to Brand."

"He will send you a more efficient and more dependable person."

"Oh you wicked little thing!" cried Garth. "If Miss Champion were here,
she would shake you! You, know perfectly well that nobody could fill
your place!"

"It is good of you to say so, sir," replied Nurse Rosemary, meekly.
"And is Miss Champion much addicted to shaking people?"

"Don't call me 'sir'! Yes; when people are tiresome she often says she
would like to shake them; and one has a mental vision of how their
teeth would chatter. There is a certain little lady of our acquaintance
whom we always call 'Mrs. Do-and-don't.' She isn't in our set; but she
calls upon it; and sometimes it asks her to lunch, for fun. If you
inquire whether she likes a thing, she says: 'Well, I do, and I don't.'
If you ask whether she is going to a certain function, she says: 'Well,
I am, and I'm not.' And if you send her a note, imploring a straight
answer to a direct question, the answer comes back: 'Yes AND no.' Miss
Champion used to say she would like to take her up by the scruff of her
feather boa, and shake her, asking at intervals: 'Shall I stop?' so as
to wring from Mrs. Do-and-don't a definite affirmative, for once."

"Could Miss Champion carry out such a threat? Is she a very massive
person?"

"Well, she could, you know; but she wouldn't. She is most awfully kind,
even to little freaks she laughs at. No, she isn't massive. That word
does not describe her at all. But she is large, and very finely
developed. Do you know the Venus of Milo? Yes; in the Louvre. I am glad
you know Paris. Well, just imagine the Venus of Milo in a tailor-made
coat and skirt,--and you have Miss Champion."

Nurse Rosemary laughed, hysterically. Either the Venus of Milo, or Miss
Champion, or this combination of both, proved too much for her.