"So you see what I'm trying to do to you, Miss Malgregor, is to—hire you with something that will just—naturally compel you to stay!"
If the grin round his mouth strengthened a trifle, so did the anxiety in his eyes.
"For Heaven's sake, Miss Malgregor," he pleaded. "Here's a man and a house and a child all going to—rack and ruin! If you're really and truly tired of nursing—and are looking for a new job,—what's the matter with tackling us?"
"It would be a job!" admitted the White Linen Nurse demurely.
"Why, it would be a deuce-of-a-job!" confided the Senior Surgeon with no demureness whatsoever.
CHAPTER VII
Very soberly, very thoughtfully then, across the tangled, snuggling head of his own and another woman's child, he urged the torments—and the comforts of his home upon this second woman.
"What is there about my offer—that you don't like?" he demanded earnestly. "Is it the whole idea that offends you? Or just the way I put it? 'General Heartwork for a Family of Two?' What is the matter with that? Seems a bit cold to you, does it, for a real marriage proposal? Or is it that it's just a bit too ardent, perhaps, for a mere plain business proposition?"
"Yes, sir," said the White Linen Nurse.
"Yes what?" insisted the Senior Surgeon.