"Miss Wayne, of course. She is sitting in Dr. Race's auto, and isn't in her uniform today, either. I wonder why. That is the third time I have seen her riding with the doctor when she didn't have on her white clothes. She can't have very many cases these days, I guess. Aren't there any sick folks to take care of?"
"Why—er—I think she is going to take care of the doctor after this," laughed Gail, a conscious blush flooding her pretty face.
"What doctor?"
"Dr. Race."
"Is he sick?"
"No. O, no. But Miss Wayne is soon to become his wife, my dear."
"His wife! Mercy sakes! Ain't that just my luck? O, dear!" wailed the small sister in distress.
"Why, what in the world is the matter?" cried Gail in great surprise. "I am sure that is a delightful sequel to a beautiful romance. Dr. Race is such a good man as well as a wonderfully successful physician, and Miss Wayne will make an ideal wife for him. Think how happy they will be in a little home of their very own."
"That may all be so," Peace reluctantly admitted, "but what am I going to do now for a pattern? She was an old maid—she said so herself—and I'd made up my mind to be just like her; and here she's going to be married after all. That's the way it happens every time with me. I thought Miss Swift wanted Dr. Race for a husband. The nurses used to joke about it all the time, and if Miss Wayne was going to get married at all, I don't see why she didn't pick out Dr. Dick. I like him best of all. O, I forgot to tell you,—he broke his leg last night."
"Who?" Gail flew out of her chair like a ball from a cannon's mouth.