Mrs. King was immature and spoiled in a childish way.

"Mr. King says I'm to keep you until I'm ready to go home. Ho wants me to have the best of everything."

"I'm sure he does."

"Do you think I've had the best doctor for my kind of case?"

"Your surgeon has an excellent reputation."

"You're just saying that, I know. The nurses and doctors have to stick together."

Miss Grant smiled. This woman with her child-like ways amused her. She began to feel at ease.

"She's like my mama," Mrs. King told the doctor, referring to Miss Grant. "She makes me eat all kinds of horrid things."

The doctor smiled weakly, pinched Mrs. King's toes, and wrote on the chart, "0.0.B."

At first, Mrs. Grant protested. "Grantly, you know I'm too weak to walk."

"All right. We'll make it the chair for the first time."

dressing Mrs.

"Miss Grant went about it matter-of-factly King in a negligee and slippers, fixing the chair and gauging the distance from the bed.

"You're going to carry me!" Mrs. King squealed with delight as Miss Grant leaned over the bed.

The fingers of one hand brushed Miss Grant's cheek as the soft white arms went around her. She knew there was not time to hesitate and that she must not look at Mr. King. During the few brief seconds it took to reach the chair, Mrs. King rested her head on Miss Grant's shoulder and murmured, "You handle me just like a baby."

(Continuod on page 21)

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