"What? But it's preposterous. Do you mean to say I can't see her unless I'm a patient? Why, man, I've got to go back in an hour." "Very sorry, sir--but no visiting allowed. Very strict 'ere, and as I says we're full of brass 'ats to-day." For a moment Derek was nonplussed; this was a complication on which he had not reckoned. "But look here, Sergeant, you know..." and even as he spoke he looked upstairs and beheld Lady Monica. Unfortunately she had not seen him, and the situation was desperate. Forcing James Henry into the arms of the outraged N.C.O., he rushed up the stairs and followed her. "Derek!" The girl stopped in amazement. "What in the world are you doing here?" "Monica, my dear, I've come to see you. Tell me that you don't really love that damn Scotchman." An adorable smile spread over her face. "You idiot! I don't love anyone. My work fills my life." "Rot! You said in your letter you had nothing to do at present. Monica, take me somewhere where I can make love to you." "I shall do nothing of the sort. In the first place you aren't allowed here at all; and in the second I don't want to be made love to." "And in the third," said Derek grimly, as the sound of a procession advancing down a corridor came from round the corner, "you're being inspected to-day, and that--if I mistake not--is the great pan-jan-drum himself." "Oh! good Heavens. Derek, I'd forgotten. Do go, for goodness' sake. Run--I shall be sacked." "I shall not go. As the great man himself rounds that corner I shall kiss you with a loud trumpeting noise.' "You brute! Oh! what shall I do?--there they are. Come in here." She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into a small deserted sitting-room close by. "You darling," he remarked and promptly kissed her. "Monica, dear, you must listen----" "Sit down, you idiot. I'm sure they saw me. You must pretend you're a patient just come in. I know I shall be sacked. The General is dreadfully particular. Put this thermometer in your mouth. Quick, give me your hand--I must take your pulse." "I think," said a voice outside the door, "that I saw--er--a patient being brought into one of these rooms." "Surely not, sir. These rooms are all empty." The door opened and the cavalcade paused. "Er--Lady Monica... really." "A new patient, Colonel," she remarked. "I am just taking his temperature." Derek, his eyes partially closed, lay back in a chair, occasionally uttering a slight groan. "The case looks most interesting." The General came and stood beside him. "Most interesting. Have you--er--diagnosed the symptoms, sister?" His lips were twitching suspiciously. "Not yet, General. The pulse is normal--and the temperature"--she looked at the thermometer--"is--good gracious me! have you kept it properly under your tongue?" She turned to Derek, who nodded feebly. "The temperature is only 93." She looked at the group in an awestruck manner.