There were two “Houses of Cure” in St. Mary's, both under the care of skilful physicians, who made specialties of treatment with the waters of the springs. One of these physicians was a Roman Catholic, and employed no nurses except the Sisters from the Convent of the Bleeding Heart. They came in turn, in bands of six or eight; and stayed three months at a time. In the other House, under the care of an English physician, nurses were hired without reference to their religion. As soon as Hetty's house was all in order, and her shrubs and trees set out, she went one morning to this House, and asked to see the physician in charge. With characteristic brevity, she stated that she had come to St. Mary's to earn her living as a nurse, and would like to secure a situation. The doctor looked at her scrutinizingly.
“Have you ever nursed?”
“No, sir.”
“What do you know about it then?”
“I have seen a great many sick people.”
“How was that?”
Hetty hesitated, but with some confusion replied:
“My husband was a doctor, and I often went with him to see his patients.”
“You are a widow then?”
“No, sir.”