I took my note-book, and wrote out the whole plan, and also calculated the expenses of such a miniature hospital as I proposed; including furniture beds, household utensils; every thing, in short, that was necessary in such an institution. With this book, which I still have in my possession, I went one evening into Dr. Blackwell's parlor, and, seating myself, told her that _I_ could not work any longer for the fair in the way that the ladies were doing; and then read my plan to her, which I advocated long and earnestly. She finally agreed with me that it would be better speedily to establish a small hospital than to wait for the large sum that had been proposed; though she did not approve of the scheme of the dime collection, fearing that I would not only meet with great annoyances, but would also injure my health in the effort. At that time, after some discussion, I agreed with her: now I think that this plan would have been better than that which I afterwards followed. On the same evening, I proposed, and we agreed, that, on a year from that day (the 1st of May, 1857), the New-York Infirmary should be opened. I went to rest with a light heart, but rose sorrowfully in the morning. "In one year from to-day, the Infirmary must be opened," said I to myself; "and the funds towards it are two pairs of half-knit babies' stockings." The day was passed in thinking what was the next best scheme to raise money for its foundation. At length I remembered my visit to Boston, and some friends there whose influence might help me _to beg_ for an _institution for American women_. For myself I could never have begged; I would sooner have drowned myself: now I determined to beg money from Americans to establish an institution for their own benefit. This plan was disclosed to Dr. Blackwell, and agreed upon, as there was nothing risked in it; I taking the whole responsibility. On the next day, the fair-meeting was held at Dr. Blackwell's. The new plan was brought forward; and, although it was as yet nothing but a plan, it acted like a warm, soft rain upon a field after a long drought. The knitting and sewing (for which I have a private horror under all conditions) were laid aside, to my great relief; and the project was talked of with so much enthusiasm, that I already saw myself in imagination making my evening visits to the patients in the New-York Infirmary; while all the members present (and there were unusually many; I think, six or seven) discussed the question the next day among their circles of friends, whether Henry Ward Beecher or a physician of high standing should make the opening speech in the institution.