The young girl turned upon her with an agonized countenance.
“We cannot say that—we do not know,” she said very sharply; then she fled hastily up the steps and into the building.
In order to reach the floor Marion had to pass the reception ward, and, as usual, she glanced in at the door in passing.
There was something going on that was out of the ordinary, but she was too upset to inquire into its meaning.
All that night the scene that she had witnessed haunted her, and she arose the next morning looking pale and haggard. As she left her room the Superintendent of Nurses met her. She was a middle-aged woman, rather stout and very dignified.
“I am going to transfer you to the medical ward for awhile, Miss Marlowe,” she said, briefly. “You can go in there at once and report to Miss Franklin.”
Marion bowed and turned in the direction indicated. It was a sad disappointment to her to be obliged to leave the “Maternity.” “I almost love Miss Williams,” she said to herself, “but as I seem to have a faculty for loving almost everybody, perhaps I shall love Miss Franklin.”
As she reached the entrance to the ward she stopped a moment. There were several new patients being put to bed, and Miss Franklin was busy.
Suddenly from the direction of the patients’ elevator there came a fearful shriek.
Marion’s face turned pale and her knees trembled as she heard it.