One day I was off in the afternoon, and when tea-time came Kathleen was missing. They searched everywhere for her; and Matron, who happened to pass, joined in the search. Eventually she was found shut up in the Sisters' dining hall, very much engaged with the food-cupboard. The butter had all gone, so had most of the sugar, some of the biscuits, and, when discovered, she was just drinking up the vinegar with relish. Matron remarked, "A good toffee mixture!" And then she spent half-an-hour trying to make the child say she was sorry, but without success; so she smacked her, and sent her to bed! On my return, of course, I had an account of Kathleen's misdoings, and thought it better to take no notice of her. All the evening as I did my work the little white-faced thing sat up in her cot watching me go up and down the ward, with her poor crooked eyes quite dry; but when the children were all settled for the night and the lights turned down, I went to her, and she flung her arms round my neck and sobbed out, "I _am_ sorry, and I won't do it never no more. But I wasn't sorry to that woman, and I don't care if she does smack me; but I shall tell my mother when I go home." Then I lifted her out of her cot to warm her toes by the fire, and after a long talk I extracted a promise that she would tell Matron she was sorry next day; and in a very few minutes she was fast asleep. I expect that I shall be moved from this ward very soon, and I shall be very sorry. The work is hard and fast, but Sister works as hard as we do; so we are very happy together, and I feel I am getting on. I have got used to the theatre work too, and (after much labour) have learnt the names of all the instruments in common use, so that I can hand them as they are asked for; and sometimes I am trusted to put out what I think will be required for an operation, and when Sister looks them over she doesn't often find anything missing. VI CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL, LONDON, _March 1892_. Soon after I last wrote I was sent down to the Out-Patients' Department--quite a different kind of work, and I shouldn't like it for long, but it was interesting for a time. The numbers vary a great deal. From fifty to a hundred children may be brought up in one day, and many of them require small dressings to be attended to. Then, on two afternoons in the week, the surgeons do small operations; and sometimes there are half-a-dozen children all recovering from anæsthetics at the same time, and all requiring to be carefully watched.