Cameron looked up as if he were about to correct this scriptural misquotation. It seemed to harass his religious sense. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was too full for utterance, and he had to content himself with a reproachful look at Tim. Ten o’clock found everybody sleepy and exhausted. The boys didn’t trouble to go to their quarters, but, crawling into any available corner, threw themselves down upon bundles or empty beds, and soon were fast asleep. The sergeant-major was too tired to care, and for one night at least discipline was happily forgotten. In the morning early we were at it again, tooth and nail. If some of our friends at home, who think the trained nurse is too proud to work, could have only seen those splendid girls on their first day in the new hospital, they would still be lost in wonder. They washed woodwork and windows, helped to put up unruly beds, swept the floors and did a hundred other menial labours—menial only because in our artificial life we call them so—cheerfully and speedily. If some day, by chance, one of our nursing sisters reads these lines, and blushes at the recollection of her work that day, let her remember that by that very labour, in our eyes, she was glorified. We shall always remember with pride those brave girls who were not afraid, when duty called, to "stoop and conquer." The following evening I was despatched to Boulogne to interview the A.D.M.S. regarding our hospital. I was met at the office door by the D.A.D.M.S., who was one of that breed of cock-sure officer—now _merci a Dieu_ almost extinct. "Hello," he cried brusquely. "Is your hospital ready for patients?" "We should prefer another day or two of preparation, sir," I replied. "How long have you been out there now?" he demanded. "Two days, sir." "What! At the end of two days you mean to tell me you’re not ready! You’re very slow." It was the first time we had been accused of sluggishness. It was undeserved, and I resented it accordingly. I replied—not too politely, I fear: "You will please remember we had to dismantle and remove the carpets and furniture of a large hotel, take stock of the fixtures and house-clean the building before commencing the setting up of our hospital equipment. We are ready for two hundred patients now—but we prefer another day or two to make everything complete." "I’ll send you two hundred patients to-night," he cried. "Be prepared for them." The A.D.M.S., a typical English gentleman of the old school, interfered. He called his deputy aside and said to him: "You mustn’t rush patients into a new hospital in this manner. Give them a few days’ grace." He turned to me and continued: "You will receive a trainload of patients three days from now. That will give you plenty of time. Kindly inform your commanding officer to this effect."