Kate’s brain was in a whirl all the way to Lentford. She walked up the broad steps of the hospital portico like one in a dream. The fat porter, in his handsome livery, nodded pleasantly at her; and the students, hurrying along the broad corridors, took off their hats to Dr. Layard’s pretty daughter. She had to pass by a recess as large as a good-sized room, with benches round and across it, upon which were seated rows of poor patients, waiting humbly for their turn to go in and see the doctor. The doorkeeper had just opened the door an inch or two, and Kate saw Philip Carey’s face, grave and care-worn, listening to a poor woman who was just going away by another entrance. She laid her hand upon the arm of the patient who was going in, and passed on into the room instead. ‘Philip,’ she said, her face flushing at his look of amazement, ‘I am only going to stay one moment. I have been so miserable. I wrote this four weeks ago.’ ‘Wrote what?’ he asked, clasping the hand with which she offered him the misdirected letter, and holding both closely. ‘I only wrote “Come,”’ stammered Kate, the tears starting into her eyes, ‘and I thought--oh, I don’t know what I thought! I directed it to Liverpool instead of Lentford, and it’s been wandering about ever since. Do you understand?’ ‘Do you mean you will be my wife?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ she answered. They had only three minutes to themselves. Three minutes was the time allotted for each case, and as it expired the door was opened again an inch or two to see if the doctor was ready for the next patient. Dr. Carey led Kate to the other door, and dismissed her with a glance which set her heart beating fast with happiness. She mounted the long flight of stairs and entered the ward where Mrs. Duffy was lying as if she trod on air. The old woman was resting very comfortably in bed, her eyes calm and bright, and a faint streak of the old apple-red beginning to show itself upon her cheek. The good chance for her recovery was a still better one this morning. ‘He’s coming back again this morning,’ she whispered in Kate’s ear; ‘they let him stay beside me all yesterday, and he’s coming back again to-day. It’s a beautiful Christmas this is; I never knew one like it. I hope they’ll never catch that poor raskill as shot me, I do. It ’ud spoil my Christmas and Johnny’s if they did. Has it been a happy Christmas for you, my dear?’ ‘Very happy,’ answered Kate, with a bright smile, as the present joy blotted out the remembrance of the past sorrow. ‘That’s right, my dear!’ murmured Mrs. Duffy, ‘I don’t know as ever I knew such a Christmas.’