"They must have spent any amount of money over it," continued the buxom little nurse, "for everything is quite perfect--on a small scale of course--I mean in comparison with the London hospitals; but none of them, so far as I know, is half so well equipped for children. It will be a pleasure to work here." She threw open the door of a ward and introduced Nurse Mary, an elderly woman also in the quaintly Dutch dress. "There are only four cots in each ward," said Sister Ann, "and they have all a wide balcony on to which the cots can be wheeled, and every ward in thus part of the house is practically self-supporting." She threw open another side door in the landing. "The bath-room and the nurses' room are over there and this is the pantry. There is a lift from the kitchen." Everything in truth was perfect, and Peter Ramsay gave a great sigh of content over the marble operating-room with its glass casing, its endless silver-plated taps, and tubes, and sprays, and levers. "I believe," he said suddenly, excitedly, "It is a replica of Pagenheim's--yes! I am certain that is his new adjustor--" He was deep in the mechanism in a moment. "There were German or Austrian workmen at it, I know," said Sister Ann beaming over with content, "But it is absolutely complete, isn't it?" Truly it was complete in every detail. A very gem amongst hospitals, a very pearl of places where disease and death could be faced at close quarters. Yes! even to the little marble mortuary where carven biers stood waiting under the shadow of a great white cross. "We must see number 36," said Helen to Dr. Ramsay, "It was built for him remember, as well as for us." The plural pronoun gave Dr. Ramsay a little thrill which he shook off impatiently. "That is the worst part of it," he said, "I am by no means sure about No. 36." But the first sight of the boy who was playing draughts with his nurse in a great wide play-room with a lift from it to the winter-garden below, set him wondering if in very truth he could not set those crooked things straight. "The Secretary's compliments, please," said the hall porter when they found themselves back in the vestibule, "and the Governing Body will be glad to see you, when you are disengaged." They looked at one another. They had lingered over their inspection; it was already close on four o'clock, and if the Oriental mail had to be caught Peter Ramsay must leave at the half hour. If?... It did not take him long to decide. He thought of the appeal in those words "Don't say 'No,' unless you dislike the place." He would not at any rate go to Vienna that night. "I am disengaged now," he said, looking at Helen Tresillian, "if you are." So they followed their guide down a passage to the right wing of the house where he knocked at a door labelled Secretary's Office. A small man sadly humpbacked, but with a quick, intelligent face and a most determined chin, rose as they entered and bowed.