"Speaking of your—'darling Peach,'" said the Senior Surgeon quite abruptly. "Speaking of your 'darling Peach,'—I'm going to—take her away with me to-day—for a week or so."
"Eh?" jumped the Little Crippled Girl.
"What? What, sir?" stammered the White Linen Nurse.
Quite prosily the Senior Surgeon began to butter a piece of toast. But the little twinkle around his eyes belied in some way the utter prosiness of the act.
"For a little trip," he confided amiably. "A little holiday!"
A trifle excitedly the White Linen Nurse laid down her knife and fork and stared at him, blue-eyed and wondering as a child.
"A holiday?" she gasped. "To a—beach, you mean? Would there be a—a roller-coaster? I've never seen a roller-coaster!"
"Eh?" laughed the Senior Surgeon.
"Oh, I'm going, too! I'm going, too!" piped the Little Crippled Girl.
Most jerkily the Senior Surgeon pushed back his chair from the table and swallowed half a cup of coffee at one single gulp.