eyes--serious enough, but with a laugh back of all their seriousness,
brown hair, firm, rounded chin and a generous sensitive mouth.
Particularly he noticed her hands--beautifully modeled, useful hands
they were, made for real service. Altogether she gave him the impression
of being very much alive, and very much a woman.

"Is this Dr. Abbott?" she asked, looking at Harry, who had risen from
his chair. When she spoke the old man again noted her voice, it was low
and clear.

"I am Dr. Abbott," replied Harry.

"I am Hope Farwell," she answered. "Dr. Miles, you know, asked me to
come. You wanted a nurse for a special case, I believe."

"Oh, yes," exclaimed Harry, "we have the letter here. We were just
speaking of you, Miss Farwell. This is Dr. Oldham; perhaps Dr. Miles
told you of him."

She turned with a smile, "Yes indeed, Dr. Miles told me. I believe we
have met before, Doctor."

The girl broke into a merry laugh, when the old man answered, gruffly: "I
should think we had. I was just telling Harry there when you came in."

Then the younger physician asked, "How soon can you be ready to go on
this case, Nurse?"

She looked at him with a faint expression of surprise. "Why I'm ready
now, Doctor."