"Yes, I can understand such a life suiting Miss Faith; she is one of those ministering women born to smooth sick pillows. But you, Cathy," trying hard to repress a smile.
"I grant you that I might deal the aforesaid pillow an occasional thump if my patient should prove refractory; but all the same, I feel as though bandages and blisters were my vocation. I have theories about nursing that would astonish your weak mind. I believe a nurse requires as thorough an education, as careful a training, as any medical student. Miss Faith is quite of my opinion; she advises me to go to London."
"I did not know Miss Faith was your confidant," in a slightly hurt voice.
"Only in this one thing, my dear Madam Dignity," with a penitent squeeze. "She said London, and I said 'Amen.' Garth knows the house surgeon at St. George's, and the matron is a great friend of Langley's; that makes it so easy to carry out my plan."
"Cathy, I do believe that you are serious."
"I am glad you have spoken a sensible word at last."
"The work will be most revolting."
"Do you think that will daunt me? Are not women sent into the world to minister and relieve pain?"
"The labor will be excessive, and trying in the extreme," persisted Queenie. "Have you ever seen the wards of a hospital? I believe you will soon sicken and droop for your northern home."
"Pshaw! I should scorn to be such a coward; half-measures are not to my taste."