"And what did Dr Dudley say to that?" she asked, as carelessly as she could. Matilda hesitated; but she felt a pardonable longing to repeat her own brave words. "I don't know whether I ought to tell you," she said. "You see--Dr Dudley doesn't know you as well as I do. He said in that horrid sneering way of his, 'And do you know what induced her to come masquerading down here?' I gave him a piece of my mind, I can tell you." And Matilda repeated the retort which she had so often gone over with keen satisfaction in her own mind. "You loyal little soul!" said Mona; but her face had turned very white. "Dr Dudley asked such an extraordinary thing," Matilda went on. "He wanted to know whether you were--a _medical student_!" Ah! so he had noticed her name in the lists. Then why had he not written to her at the School? "Fancy his imagining such a thing! Pa told him you had no need to do anything for yourself." Mona was too preoccupied to think of it at the time; but, before she left Borrowness, she broke to the Cooksons the astounding fact that, although she had no need to do anything for herself, she was a medical student. When she came to think calmly over the incident which Matilda had narrated to her, she did not know whether to draw from it comfort or despair. She was not sorry that Dudley should have been angry,--angry enough to forget himself before little Matilda Cookson; but had he been content to condemn her unheard? Surely he could in some way have got a letter to her. Algiers and Cairo were far off, but they were not on the astral plane. No, certainly Mona did not despair of her friend. It might have been better for her physically if she had. If she had been sure that he had forgotten her, she would have turned the key with a will on the suite of enchanted rooms; but the suspense, the excitement of uncertainty, was wearing out her strength. When spring came round she was thoroughly ill. She went about her work as usual, but even her lecturers and fellow-students saw that something was wrong; and Sir Douglas implored her to give up medicine altogether. "I ought to have trusted my own instincts," he said. "The very first day I saw your face, I felt sure that you were not the sort to make a doctor. That kind of work wants women of coarser fibre. There us no use trying to chop wood with a razor." In vain Mona protested that medical work had nothing to do with it; that she could not live without her hospital. She was not prepared to suggest any other explanation, and Sir Douglas stuck to his point. "Don't fret, dear," she said at last. "If you like, I will go and see Dr Alice Bateson to-morrow." "_Do!_" he said emphatically. "I have a great mind to go and see her myself." So next evening Mona found herself in a pleasant, airy consulting-room. Dr Bateson rose as her patient entered, and looked at her steadily, with the penetrating brown eyes.