After tea the medicines were given out. It was the staff-nurse's duty to-day, and following the instructions on her chart, Hudson went to and fro, pouring out the draughts, and bringing them to each bed in order. Sister, seated by No. 10, watched her silently. But when she brought the dose for this "typhoid," she took it from her hand to administer it herself. What instinct made her pause, before giving it, to ask: "Is this the new medicine, nurse?" "Of course it is, Sister!" The tone was offensive, but, ignoring it, Sister Warwick leant forward to hold the glass to the girl's lips. Again she paused. What was it stayed her hand? She raised the glass, smelt it, and then put it to her own lips and tasted the liquid, her eyes on the chart. "This is an overdose!" she said sternly. "Here are four times the right amount!" For she knew in a flash what the nurse had done, and she shuddered at the thought! Hudson had certainly, as she said, given the fresh medicine the chart directed, but in her heedlessness she had not looked to see if the quantity was altered too. She had poured out two tablespoonfuls instead of two teaspoonfuls--a dose that would have caused intense suffering, if nothing worse, to the sick girl. Sister Warwick rose from her chair and looked Nurse Hudson full in the face. Her utter scorn and indignation at this culpable carelessness rendered her speechless. But her glance was enough! Turning on her heel, she carried the medicine-glass into her room, placed it in a cupboard there, and locking it up, removed the key. Nurse Hudson watched it all--miserable and self-condemned--knowing what the action meant. Now that it was done, she would have given anything to have been more careful. Her colour came and went. She stood irresolute. Her better self was urging her to go at once and with a humble apology plead for another trial with an earnest promise of a different course in the future. But she could not bring herself to do that. Pride and Selfishness had been too closely her companions lately, excluding better impulses. No, she would not believe that Sister Warwick meant to report her to the Matron. Perhaps she would only ask for her removal to another ward; there she could make a fresh start. But she did not ask herself with what motive. Nurse Hudson's work had always been tarnished with the discolouring influences of her own low aims. No wonder now that she failed, and did not take the one step that might have saved her nursing career. She left the ward that evening without another word with the Sister--miserable, self-pitying, undecided, little thinking that she would never enter it again. * * * * *