"Next Saturday," said Sister Anne. "Why?"

"Because," explained Sam, "if you won't think it too
presumptuous, I was going to prescribe a day off for
you--a day entirely away from iodoform and white enamelled
cots. It is what you need, a day in the city and a lunch
where they have music; and a matinee, where you can laugh--or
cry, if you like that better--and then, maybe, some fresh air
in the park in a taxi; and after that dinner and more
theatre, and then I'll see you safe on the train for
Greenwich. Before you answer," he added hurriedly, "I want to
explain that I contemplate taking a day off myself and doing
all these things with you, and that if you want to bring any
of the other forty nurses along as a chaperon, I hope you
will. Only, honestly, I hope you won't!"

The proposal apparently gave Sister Anne much pleasure. She
did not say so, but her eyes shone and when she looked at Sam
she was almost laughing with happiness.

"I think that would be quite delightful," said Sister Anne,"
--quite delightful! Only it would be frightfully expensive;
even if I don't bring another girl, which I certainly would
not, it would cost a great deal of money. I think we might
cut out the taxicab--and walk in the park and feed the
squirrels."

"Oh!" exclaimed Sam in disappointment,--"then you know
Central Park?"