After she left Sam, Sister Anne passed hurriedly through the hospital to the matron's room and, wrapping herself in a raccoon coat, made her way to a waiting motor car and said, “Home!” to the chauffeur. He drove her to the Flagg family vault, as Flagg's envious millionaire neighbors called the pile of white marble that topped the highest hill above Greenwich, and which for years had served as a landfall to mariners on the Sound. There were a number of people at tea when she arrived and they greeted her noisily. “I have had a most splendid adventure!” said Sister Anne. “There were six of us, you know, dressed up as Red Cross nurses, and we gave away programmes. Well, one of the New York reporters thought I was a real nurse and interviewed me about the Home. Of course I knew enough about it to keep it up, and I kept it up so well that he was terribly sorry for me; and....” One of the tea drinkers was little Hollis Holworthy, who prided himself on knowing who's who in New York. He had met Sam Ward at first nights and prize fights. He laughed scornfully. “Don't you believe it!” he interrupted. “That man who was talking to you was Sam Ward. He's the smartest newspaper man in New York; he was just leading you on. Do you suppose there's a reporter in America who wouldn't know you in the dark? Wait until you see the Sunday paper.” Sister Anne exclaimed indignantly. “He did not know me!” she protested. “It quite upset him that I should be wasting my life measuring out medicines and making beds.” There was a shriek of disbelief and laughter. “I told him,” continued Sister Anne, “that I got forty dollars a month, and he said I could make more as a typewriter; and I said I preferred to be a manicurist.” “Oh, Anita!” protested the admiring chorus. “And he was most indignant. He absolutely refused to allow me to be a manicurist. And he asked me to take a day off with him and let him show me New York. And he offered, as attractions, moving-picture shows and a drive on a Fifth Avenue bus, and feeding peanuts to the animals in the park. And if I insisted upon a chaperon I might bring one of the nurses. We're to meet at the soda-water fountain in the Grand Central Station. He said, 'The day cannot begin too soon.'” “Oh, Anita!” shrieked the chorus. Lord Deptford, who as the newspapers had repeatedly informed the American public, had come to the Flaggs' country-place to try to marry Anita Flagg, was amused. “What an awfully jolly rag!” he cried. “And what are you going to do about it?” “Nothing,” said Anita Flagg. “The reporters have been making me ridiculous for the last three years; now I have got back at one of them! And,” she added, “that's all there is to that!” That night, however, when the house party was making toward bed, Sister Anne stopped by the stairs and said to Lord Deptford: “I want to hear you call me Sister.” “Call you what?” exclaimed the young man. “I will tell you,” he whispered, “what I'd like to call you!”