What could she do now? There were too many lives at stake to allow to remain unnoticed these recurring acts of carelessness, and, worse still, these signs of hardness and want of tenderness in her dealings with the patients. Yet how her kind heart shrank from the strong measure of a complaint to the matron! She had spoken a few decided, and she hoped calm and "Sisterly" words of warning to her that very evening as she was leaving the ward. Should she now wait and see if they took effect? Surely it would be only fair to give her one more trial? Meanwhile she herself could use greater diligence in overlooking the work done in the ward. After much thought she settled it so, and then tried to put the anxious matter aside. Did she err in her judgment? If so, it was on the side of mercy--the way we women would all prefer to lean. (_To be continued._) THREE GIRL-CHUMS, AND THEIR LIFE IN LONDON ROOMS. BY FLORENCE SOPHIE DAVSON. CHAPTER III. TWO LETTERS. I am afraid that as this account of the doings of our three friends unfolds itself, some of my readers may be tempted to complain that it seems to be always meal-time at "The Rowans." Indeed, I must admit that from their point of view the complaint is a just one, but I would beg them to remember that my object is to give an account of the culinary doings of the household; their meals, and how they were contrived, and the cost thereof; and as, like the old woman in the nursery song, "Victuals and drink were the chief of their diet," the food question must perforce be continually before us. As a girl of fourteen I had to take the reins of government and direct the house during my mother's long illness. It would certainly have helped me greatly to have been able to follow the chronicles of some young housekeeper and to have learnt how she arranged matters. But at that time Marion and the Orlingburys were all in short frocks and had no experiences to unfold for my benefit. The trials of the members of our household during the time of my rule were doubtless very severe. The chief thing that I remember is that my favourite sultana pudding was served about four times a week, with sauce; on the last point I was most particular.