CHAPTER IX.--ROMANCE AND REALITY.
A few minutes after six that evening Dr. Van Steyne's pretty nurse was walking briskly along North-terrace in the direction of the railway-station. She wore a dress of light grey and a smart blue hat.
"Oh! there's that nice young Mr. Tennant!" she exclaimed interestedly. "Now, I wonder if he'll recognise me without my uniform? I expect he will." But apparently Mr. Tennant did not recognise her, for, although their paths almost converged as they reached the railway-station, he passed on in the direction of the booking-office.
The nurse tripped down the stairs, and then, finding she had plenty of time, stopped before the book-stall to glance over the books and magazines. At the same time she managed to keep a covert eye upon the people who were hurrying p
