Marjorie looked again at the patient in No. 17. The twinkling brown eyes seemed most familiar. She glanced at the board on the bed-head and saw: "Hilton Tamworthy Preston". The humorous mouth was smiling at her in evident recognition. She smiled too.
"Didn't we travel together from Silverwood?" she stammered.
"Of course we did. I knew you at once when you were going down the other side of the ward," he replied. "Did you get to Brackenfield all right that day?"
"Yes, thanks. But how did you know that we were going to Brackenfield?"
"Why, you were wearing your badges. My sisters used to be there, so I twigged at once that you were Brackenfielders. Your teacher wore a badge too. I hope she found a taxi all right?"
"No, she didn't. It was a wretched four-wheeler, but we were glad to get anything in the way of a cab."
"How do you like school?"
"Oh, pretty well! I like it better than Dona does. We're going home next Tuesday for the holidays."
"My sisters were very happy there, and Kathleen was a prefect. I used to hear all about it. Do you still call Mrs. Morrison 'The Empress'? I expect there are plenty of new girls now that Joyce and Kathleen wouldn't remember."
"Have you been wounded?" asked Dona shyly.