"How-do, dearie!" exclaimed the vision. "You poor kid, you! I heard
you was sick, and I says, 'I'm going up to cheer her up if I have to
miss my train out to do it.' Say, I was laid up two years ago in Idaho
Falls, Idaho, and believe me, I'll never forget it. I don't know how
sick I was, but I don't even want to remember how lonesome I was. I
just clung to the chamber-maid like she was my own sister. If your
nurse wants to go out for an airing I'll sit with you. Glad to."

"That's a grand little idea," agreed Ed Meyers. "I told 'em you'd
brighten things up. Well, I'll be going. You'll be as good as new in a
week, Mrs. McChesney, don't you worry. So long." And he closed the
door after himself with apparent relief.

Miss Haney, the nurse, was already preparing to go out. It was her
regular hour for exercise. Mrs. McChesney watched her go with a
sinking heart.

"Now!" said Miss Riordon, comfortably, "we girls can have a real, old-
fashioned talk. A nurse isn't human. The one I had in Idaho Falls was
strictly prophylactic, and antiseptic, and she certainly could give
the swell alcohol rubs, but you can't get chummy with a human
disinfectant. Your line's skirts, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Land, I've heard an awful lot about you. The boys on the road
certainly speak something grand of you. I'm really jealous. Say, I'd
love to show you some of my samples for this season. They're just
great. I'll just run down the hall to my room--"