“We’ve been doing very nicely, although of course it’s hardly more than just living. Our meals are sent in from a hotel, and—well, we thought, since we are going away so soon, that perhaps we could manage.” The impulse was too strong for him at that moment. He wheeled and looked behind him, not a hasty glance, but a deliberate inspection that took in every part of that end of the room. It was so unexpected that it left me gasping. The next moment he was himself again. “When I say that there is no illness,” he said, “I am hardly exact. There is no illness, but there has been an epidemic of children’s diseases among the Beauregard Square children and we are keeping the youngsters indoors.” “Don’t you think they could be safeguarded without being shut up in the house?” He responded eagerly “If I only thought——” he checked himself. “No,” he said decidedly; “for a time at least I believe it is not wise.” I did not argue with him. There was nothing to be gained by antagonizing him. And as Mrs. Reed came in just then, the subject was dropped. She was hardly more than a girl, almost as blond as her husband, very pretty, and with the weariest eyes I have ever seen, unless perhaps the eyes of a man who has waited a long time for deathly tuberculosis. I liked her at once. She did not attempt to smile. She rather clung to my hand when I held it out. “I am glad St. Luke’s still trusts us,” she said. “I was afraid the other nurse—— Frank, will you take Miss Adams’ suitcase upstairs?” She held out a key. He took it, but he turned at the door: “I wish you wouldn’t wear those things, Anne. You gave me your promise yesterday, you remember.” “I can’t work round the children in anything else,” she protested. “Those things” were charming. She wore a rose silk negligee trimmed with soft bands of lace and blue satin flowers, a petticoat to match that garment, and a lace cap. He hesitated in the doorway and looked at her—a curious glance, I thought, full of tenderness, reproof—apprehension perhaps. “I’ll take it off, dear,” she replied to the glance. “I wanted Miss Adams to know that, even if we haven’t a servant in the house, we are at least civilized. I—I haven’t taken cold.” This last was clearly an afterthought. He went out then and left us together. She came over to me swiftly. “What did the other nurse say?” she demanded. “I do not know her at all. I have not seen her.” “Didn’t she report at the hospital that we were—queer?” I smiled. “That’s hardly likely, is it?” Unexpectedly she went to the door opening into the hall and closed it, coming back swiftly. “Mr. Reed thinks it is not necessary, but—there are some things that will puzzle you. Perhaps I should have spoken to the other nurse. If—if anything strikes you as unusual, Miss Adams, just please don’t see it! It is all right, everything is all right. But something has occurred—not very much, but disturbing—and we are all of us doing the very best we can.”