“Don’t tempt me, Joe;” she settled back in her seat and looked about the restaurant. At that hour the room was empty and she heaved a sigh of relief; she was not anxious to encounter any friend who might chance to come in. She shivered slightly, half overcome by a tormenting memory. “I will take some coffee,” she added hastily. Joe finished giving his order, and then turned his attention fully on his companion. She looked extremely pretty and young in her conventional tailored-suit and stylish hat under which her red hair curled tantalizingly. Her good looks and engaging manner had captivated Joe when she attended him at Garfield Hospital the year before, he having preceded his family to Washington, and developed typhoid fever soon after his arrival. “Why did you telephone that you had to see me, Joe?” asked Kathryn, breaking the silence. “It’s nearly a week since our last walk together,” he answered moodily. “I began to think you were avoiding me.” “Nonsense; I told you I’ve been extra busy....” “But a nurse always has her regular hours off,” he broke in. “During which I’ve been making up lost sleep,” she retorted. “Joe, dear, don’t quarrel with me----” her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t bear it.” “My dearest,” he patted the slender hand resting on the table with tender fingers. “I’ll eat dirt, sooner than make you unhappy.” “Try the oysters, instead,” she advised, with a half hysterical laugh, as the waiter placed the tempting dishes before them. The presence of the waiter, who stood behind Joe’s chair shucking the roasted oysters in rapid succession, prevented further private conversation, to Joe’s great annoyance. He wanted Kathryn to himself, and her half-bantering, half-tender manner but added fuel to the flame of his passion. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, rising and pushing back his chair. While playing with her hot coffee and oysters, of which she was usually inordinately fond, Kathryn had done some rapid thinking, and having decided on her course of action, she was quite willing to leave, and in a few minutes more they were strolling up Pennsylvania Avenue. “What time do you have to return?” inquired Joe, stopping before the Raleigh. “Not until six o’clock.” “Good!” Joe beckoned to one of the hackmen standing in front of the hotel, and as the brougham drew up before them, he wrenched open the door and before Kathryn had quite decided, she was half pushed into the vehicle. “Go to the Mall,” shouted Joe, springing in after her. “Well, upon my word!” she ejaculated, considerably startled. “Joe--Joe--what’s come over you?”