“All hospital nurses are just now basking in the sunshine of a forthcoming ball. It is to be given at Bartimaeus's Hospital, where they have a lecture theatre larger than the common, and the dancing there is for once to be to a happier tune. All the earth is to be present--all the hospital earth--and if I could afford to array myself in the necessary splendour, I should show this benighted London what an absolute angel Glory is! But then my first full holiday is to be on the 24th, when I expect to be out from 10 A. M. until 10 P. M. I am nearly crazy whenever I think of it, and when the time comes to make my first plunge into London, I know I shall hold my breath exactly as if I were taking a header off Creg Malin rocks.... Glory.” VIII. On the morning of the 24th Glory rose at five, that she might get through her work and have the entire day for her holiday. At that hour she came upon a rough-haired nurse wearing her cap a little on one side and washing a floor with disinfectants. Being in great spirits, Glory addressed her cheerfully. “Are you off to-day too?” she said. The nurse gave her a contemptuous glance and answered: “I'm not one of your paying probationers, Miss--playing probationers _I_ call them. We nurses are hard-working women, whose life spells duty; and we've got no time for sight-seeing and holiday-making.” “No, but you are one of those who ruin the profession altogether,” said a younger woman who had just come up. “They will expect everybody to do the same. This is my day off, but I have to do the grate, and sweep the ward, and make the bed, and tidy the Sister's room--and it's all through people like you. Small thanks you get for it either, for a girl may not even wear her hair in a fringe, and she is always expecting to hear the matron's 'You're not fit for nursing, Miss.'” Glory looked at her. She was an exquisitely pretty girl, with dark hair, pink and ivory cheeks, and light-gray eyes; but her hands were coarse, and her finger nails flat and square, and when you looked again there was a certain blemished appearance about her beauty as of a Sèvres vase that is cracked somewhere. “Do you say you are off to-day?” said Glory, “Yes, I am; are you?” “Yes, but I'm strange to London. Could you take me with you--if you are going nowhere in particular?” “Certainly, dear. I've noticed you before and wanted to speak to you. You're the girl with the splendid name--Glory, isn't it?” “Yes; what is yours?” “Polly Love.” At ten o'clock that morning the two girls set out for their long day's jaunt. “Now where shall we go?” said Polly. “Let's go where we can see a great many people,” said Glory. “That's easy enough, for this is the Queen's birthday, and----” Glory thought of Aunt Rachel and made a cry of delight. “And now that I think of it,” said Polly, as if by a sudden memory, “I've got tickets for the trooping of the colours--the Queen's colours, you know.” “Shall we see her?” said Glory.