When she answered him in the affirmative he came over to her. His duck suit was rumpled and his collar wilted. His hair was mussed where he had mopped it back. In his hand was a clinical thermometer and an odor of drugs surrounded him. "Miss Dale," he urged, "why don't you get up a picnic and take these mothers and babies into the country for a few hours? You entertained the old ladies but you would save lives if you could arrange to get some of these babies into a cool place for awhile." He became apologetic. "I don't mean to be insistent but I am interested in my work and if I can keep any of them from dying in this heat spell, I want to do it. You understand me, don't you?" "Indeed I do, Doctor Jackson. I will be only too glad to get up a picnic." A note of anxiety crept into her voice. "There isn't much time to prepare. If it is to do good, we must have it at once." "Tomorrow, by all means," urged the physician. "Let's go to it." His enthusiasm filled her with energy. "It will be dandy," she cried, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "It will be difficult to arrange for, but we can do it." The young medical man gave this pretty girl, flushed with interest and confidence, a look of frank admiration. "That's the ticket," he shouted, tossing professional dignity to the winds for the moment. "You can make things hum. Hop to it, kiddo." Then more seriously, "Let me know late this afternoon the arrangements you have made. Call me by phone. I'll get word to the mothers if I have to carry it myself this evening." Virginia's head was awhirl with vague plans when she left the hospital. On the way she espied Mrs. Henderson hurrying down the street in utter disregard of the fiery heat. "Get in, Hennie," called Virginia, when Ike stopped the car. "I must talk to you and I want to make you as comfortable as I can." "Don't mind me, child," protested the widow. "I am a hardened sinner whom it behooves to become accustomed to heat." In a few words the girl explained the plan for the picnic. "It is a splendid thing to do," Mrs. Henderson agreed. "Of course I'll be glad to help. Good gracious, sick babies all around us and at our church we are dawdling over a new bell rope and a lock for the front door." "It is such a relief to know that you are going to help," exclaimed Virginia; "but away down in my heart I knew that you would." "There, there, dearie, I'm an old crank who is always minding other people's business--and getting kicked for it," she ended petulantly. "Hereafter," she affirmed emphatically, "I am going to attend to my own affairs." A great energy filled her and she turned to Virginia, her own words forgotten. "What can I do? If you will let Serena help me, I will attend to the refreshments." "Hennie, you are a dear--that much is settled." Virginia sighed with relief. "Now where can we have the picnic? Parks which have bands and dancing won't do at all."