Dear Mr. Brooks:
Thank you for the flowers, and the candy, and the many offers of the car, but I haven’t time to enjoy any of these things just now. So please don’t send me any more, or write, or try to see me. I think it would be better for every one, and far happier in the end for you, if you would go back to your work as soon as possible.
Faithfully yours,
Sheila O’Leary.
Hennessy snorted. “So that’s what she thinks, is it? Well, don’t ye do it. ’Twas betther advice I gave ye myself; hold fast here an’ fight for her. Mind that!” And with a farewell pull of his forelock Hennessy left him.
Peter watched him for an instant, then with a new purpose full-born in his mind he turned and walked swiftly back to the sanitarium. He knew why the management had sent for Brainard to come back to the San. The head surgeon had been taken with typhoid; the wards were full of his special operative cases, and Brainard, who had trained under him, was the most skilful man available to take his place. But why had they put Sheila O’Leary on as his surgical nurse? Why had they done this thing that was bound to revive the old scandal and set tongues wagging anew? Peter knew that upon the answer to this depended his decision. Would he take Sheila’s advice and go, or Hennessy’s advice and fight?
He went directly to the office of the superintendent of nurses, and, finding the door well ajar, he entered without knocking. Miss Maxwell was seated at her desk. Across the desk, with clasped hands, cheeks aflame, and lips compressed into a look of even greater determination than Peter had seen there a few minutes before, leaned Sheila O’Leary.
Peter colored at his unintentional intrusion. “Excuse me,” he stammered. “Not hearing voices, I thought you were alone. I’ll come again later, Miss Maxwell,” and he turned toward the door.
Leerie’s voice called him back. “Don’t go—want you. Something I was trying to get Miss Max to promise.”
This time Miss Maxwell colored. “It’s against rules, Leerie, to talk over hospital matters before patients, even as discreet a one as Mr. Brooks.”
“I know—can’t help it—need him. Besides, he’s his best friend.” She turned to Peter with a strained eagerness. “This will be news to you. Doctor Dempsy is due here in the morning—taken suddenly—major operation—nurse just wired. I want you and Miss Max to take him on to the Dentons if he can stand the trip. Awfully delicate operation, and it’s Doctor John’s crack piece of work. Will you do it?”