It was a hot June night. Not a breath of air was stirring, and in the great Danbury Hospital every window was opened its widest. Yet the patients lay panting and sweltering on their cots. Peace, in her room, tossed and turned restlessly, dozed a few minutes, then wakened, changed her position, trying to find a cooler spot, and finally in desperation, raised her hand and jerked the bell-cord dangling at the head of her bed. She could hear the answering whir in the hall outside, but no one came to minister to her wants, and after an impatient wait of a few seconds, she repeated the summons.
Still no one came.
"What in creation can be the matter with Miss Hays, I wonder," she muttered, and savagely pulled the cord for the third time.
There was a faint patter of rapid steps through the corridor, and the night nurse, flushed and perspiring, flew into the room. "What is it?" she asked crisply, mopping her warm face after a hasty survey of the small patient.
"O," exclaimed Peace in relief. "It's you at last! I thought you were never coming. Is it hot outside tonight, or is it just me that's hot?"
Poor, hurried, steaming Miss Hays glared down at the tumbled figure on the bed, and snapped, "It's me that's hot! Did you chase me clear down two flights of stairs just to ask that question?"
"You do look warm," said Peace in conciliatory tones, not quite understanding the cause of Miss Hays' evident wrath.
"I am warm,—decidedly warm under the collar!" Suddenly the funny side of the situation burst upon her, and she laughed hysterically. It was utterly ridiculous to think of the haste she had made to answer the frantic summons of that bell!
Then, with an effort she controlled her merriment, and asked soberly, "Was there anything you wanted?"