"I am perfectly aware of that fact," he replied; "but may I remind you of another--that No. 36 is only one out of, say, a million who are very possibly better dead and out of the way? My cutting him about might be a selfish pleasure; my duty might be--euthanasia!"

She looked at him vexedly. "I do not dictate to you a doctor's duty," she said with spirit, "but I know that a nurse's is 'to save life and defy death at all costs.' Have I got that quite pat?"

He smiled. "You have an excellent memory, Mrs. Tressilian," he replied, "and--and I am grateful for the suggestion, but it is quite out of the question. Perhaps when I return from Vienna I may be able to--to do my duty. At present I ought to be starting for my walk over the hills. Lord Blackborough has promised to pick me up at Dinas--the motor is to meet him there--and as this is my last day----"

"Are you leaving us to-morrow?" she asked quickly.

For an instant he felt inclined to confess that he had had no previous intention of departing before the New Year, but he swallowed his vexation at his own hasty decision, and said rather lamely, "I am afraid I must--I ought just to give a look round the London hospitals before I go abroad."

"I suppose it would be better," she assented sarcastically. "I have always understood that they are really not bad."

"Except for the beer," he answered coolly, and left her.

But though it was easy enough to dismiss Helen and her suggestions in this cavalier fashion, he could not dismiss a feeling of irritation at her implied disapproval. The faintest hint of it always roused resentment in him and a desire to make that disapproval utterly unreasonable. So, as he breasted the hills, intending to walk over their summits, and when time was up drop down on Dinas and the motor, his thoughts were busy with the possibility of fitting in No. 36 in the Queen's ward with his plans for the future.

There was always the hidden hundred pounds--if it still existed! He had a great mind to see if it did, since he was so close to its hiding-place.

Would he have time? He looked at his watch, and then gave a glance seaward. The estuary, now at flood tide, lay silver in the winter sunshine, and not more than halfway across it he could discern a slowly-moving black speck. The boat, of course. If that were so, he would have ample time, and for a smoke also. He sat down, and watched the small black speck, wondering what had delayed those three. It seemed to be going faster now; but even so, there was time and to spare. An hour and a half at least ere they could possibly crest those further hills and drop down into the valley. And then--then, by the computation of experience, it would be at least an hour ere Ned Blackborough would tear himself away!