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  What kind of man was John Kirkall? Nurse Hilary Hunter loved her job at the hospital except for the thoroughly disturbing presence of John Kirkall. John was a brilliant, ambitious surgeon, but Hilary found him demanding and irritating to work for. Then a glimpse of the man behind the surgeon's mask revealed quite a different person. Hilary hadn't wanted him to come into her off-duty hours, so why, when he was gone, did she feel strangely resentful

  "Don't you want to be a success?' Hilary twisted 5n herseat as she answered John's question. "Our ideas of success seem to differ. You can have the top rung if you want. I've reached the one I want... almost" "You aren't like most women, then' he said in an odd sort of voice. "Perhaps you haven't known many women," she replied swiftly. "Perhaps 1 haven't." Abruptly John reached across her and opened the car door. "Out you get. I'm in a hurry, even if you're not." She jumped out of the car and glared'at' him. "Do you have to spoil everything?" Then she ran without looking back. He would only be wearing that mocking expression. He didn't care about anything except getting to the top. No one mattered to him but himself. OTHER Varlequin Vonwices byMARYHUNTON 611 NURSE BLADE'S FIRST WEEK 1041 NURSE AVERIL'S WARD Many of these titles are available at your local bookseller. For a free catalogue listing all available Harlequin Romances, send your name and address to: HARLEQUIN READER SERVICE, M.P.O. Box 707, Niagara Falls, N.Y 14302 Canadian address: Stratford; Ontario, Canada . One with the Wind by MARY HUNTON WarleqidnTSooks TORONTO LONDON LOS ANGELES AMSTERDAM SYDNEY . HAMBURG PARIS STOCKHOLM ATHENS TOKYO Original hardcover edition published in 1962 by Mills & Boon Limited ISBN 0-373-00729-9 Harlequin edition published April 1963 under the title Surgeons at Arms Second printing December 1976 Third printing May 1977 Fourth printing March 1980 Copyright 1962 by Mary Hunton. Philippine copyright 1980. Australian copyright 1980.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilizationof this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical orother means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography,photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retn'eval system,is forbidden without the permission of the publisher. All the characters in thisbook have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have norelation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are noteven distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, andall tha incidents are pure invention. The Harlequin trademark, consisting of the word HARLEQUIN and theportrayal of a Harlequin, is registered in the United States PatentOffice and inthe Canada Trade Marks Office. Printed In Canada

  CHAPTER ONE

  HILARY HUNTER came out of Theatre B., pulling down her mask and rubbing the back of her hand wearily across her damp forehead. Her list of morning operations had just finished and her last patient was on the trolley being trundled towards the lift by her theatre orderly. "Is he all right, Kari?" she called out automatically. "Yes, Sister. Quite soon he will be around. I think we get him back to the ward first."Hilary pulled off her surgeon's gown and added it to the pile a junior theatre nurse was sorting. "Has Theatre A. finished yet, Nurse Walters?" The girl nodded. "They came out about ten minutes ago, Sister. Julia took the coffee in." Hilary straightened her aching shoulders. Three hours of bending over a theatre table made her aware of muscles she hadn't felt when she came on duty this morning. She glanced at the junior warily. "What's the weather like?"Nurse Walters gave her a sympathetic look. "On the stormy side. The Theatre Super sent Nurse Browning out to start packing the drums halfway through the list. The poor kid had dropped something ... I don't know what the Super said to her, but Browning was crying when she came out. It's a beastly shame!"Hilary shushed her gently. "Careful! I'm convinced the walls tell Sister Withall when we're talking about her. I'd better show myself for coffee." Hilary walked slowly towards the door with its signpost marked Theatre Superintendent, tapped politely and went in. There was a lull in the conversation, one of the house surgeons made a move to offer her a seat, and Sister Withall handed her the coffee tray."Late, aren't you? Better ask Julia for some more coffee, and bring yourself a stool from the surgeons' room." The Theatre Superintendent's voice was cold and unwelcoming. Hilary took the tray and went out to the little kitchen next door. Julia without a word filled up the two jugs and nodded her head in the direction of the office, and Hilary as silently nodded back. The surgeons had departed next door to change and Hilary gulped down her coffee hastily. She didn't want to be alone with Alice Withall a moment longer than necessary. She could sense the growing tension and she wanted to be away before the storm broke. The Theatre Superintendent looked up from the list she was writing. "You might as well have a second cup, Sister Hunter. I have something to discuss with you." Hilary obediently poured herself some more coffee and wished herself anywhere but here. "Yes, Sister." She loved working in Theatre and her appointment as Junior Theatre Sister at St. Edmund's Hospital had been a thrilling moment, but after the first month the gloss had worn off. She began to wonder why the Theatre Superintendent had ever asked for another Theatre Sister since she didn't appear to want her. "Sister Hunter, you are to take Mr. Kirkall's list tomorrow. I've told Matron I don't think you're experienced enough, but with Sister Esdale still away I have no choice," she said disagreeably."What is the case, Sister?" Hilary forced herself to ignore her senior's manner. "A coarctation of the aorta, to start at half-past nine," Alice Withall said curtly."No hypothermia, then?" Hilary forced herself to continue. "Of course not! Mr. Benson and I will be using the apparatus in Theatre A,," Theatre Superintendent snapped. "It's ridiculous doing two cardiac lists the same morning. I've told Matron I haven't got the staff or the equipment or the space, but I might as well have saved my breath for all the attention she paid." Hilary stood up. "Who will I have for the morning, Sister?" she asked quietly. Alice Withall had turned her attention to whatever she was writing. "The work lists will go up at the usual time, Sister." Hilary bit back the angry words that would have reminded the Theatre Superintendent that she would be off duty at that time. "Does Mr. Kirkall know I'm taking his case?" "That's my business, not his. He is quite aware that I always take Mr. Benson's list on a Thursday. This is one time Mr. Kirkall won't have his own way." She glanced up at Hilary. "You'd better restock your formalin cabinet. It's in a disgraceful state, and I had to send over to my own theatre for 3/0 black gossamer silk last night." "Sorry, Sister," Hilary said automatically, and began to stack the dirty cups on the tray. "Julia can do that. You'd better see that your theatre is ready for Staff Nurse." "Yes, Sister." Hilary smothered a sigh. She escaped from the Theatre Superintendent's office, gave the message to the maid, and went along to Theatre B. She had been weary when she had finished her list, but now she was not only weary but utterly disheartened. She never minded how hard she worked or how often she was called out for emergencies at night, but Alice Withall's thankless attitude took all the joy out of her chosen career. If only once she could be pleased about something, or say thank you or even smile as if she wanted to, it wouldn't have been quite so bad. She seemed to be one of those strange joyless creatures who could only be content when everyone else was miserable as well. Hilary found her two juniors hard at work cleaning the last of the instruments. She gave them a warm smile. "You have been quick. What's in the steriLzer now? Nurse Timmons glanced at her co-helper. "We've put in the first general set for this afternoon, but we weren't quite sure about the extras . . . they're here." She uncovered a tr3.v Hilary found her two juniors hard at work cleaning the pair of deep retractors the ones on the second shelf m case the patient is fat. Have you repacked the bowl sterlizer?" , .,. The two nurses nodded. "It's almost boiling, Sister, so it should be ready in time. We were afraid there wouldn't be enough bowls for this afternoon if we didn't." ': Hilary
glanced up at the clock. "You're lucky this once. Next time always dish up a complete set of bowls and double towel them to be on the safe side. Has Sister told you which dinner to go to?" "We're to go to first dinner," they said unhappily. "Never mind. I'll finish in here. Off you go, and thank you both very much," Hilary said cheerfully. None of them made any reference to the fact that Hilary would be late getting off for her half day or that the Theatre Superintendent had deliberately arranged it that way.Left alone, Hilary got on with the task of sorting the instruments for Staff Nurse's afternoon list, putting away the ones that wouldn't be used, replacing any empty drums, and generally making sure that everything would be ready when the other nurse came back on duty. She was moving the floor mop in broad wet swathes across the marbled floor when Karl, her theatre orderly, came in and found her. He took the mop from her with gentle disapproval. "It is not right that you should have to do this work. Sister." "It's nice and soothing, Karl," she told him firmly. "Anyway I was almost finished. You have your anaesthetic trolley to do," she reminded him. He smiled at her. "That, too, I know, and there will be the time for both." Hilary smiled back. "And for your dinner?" "And that as well. Mr. Patterson has the big clinic this morning and has not gone yet for his lunch, so the list will not begin at two o'clock," he said calmly. "Sister Withall has gone to the dining room and Nurse Walters listens for the phone, and so it is right that you go for your half day before it gets any later. I am in Theatre B. this afternoon and I will look after Staff Nurse , . . you need not worry." Hilary glanced at him and around the dean and tidy theatre that bore no traces of a busy morning's list of operations."All right, Karl, I'm going," she reassured him hastily. "Thank you very much." "Have a nice half day. Sister, and do not worry about us, for it's we who should thank you," 10 Hilary went out of Theatre B. lightheartedly this time. She felt that things were under control once more and perhaps the afternoon would go more smoothly than the morning. She wouldn't be here to see what happened anyway. She stopped just short of colliding with a tall man in a hurry. "Sorry, sir," she murmured apologetically. "Oh, it's you, Sister Hunter." John Kirkall glanced down at her impatiently. "I understand you're taking my case in the morning." "Yes, sir. Sister Withall has just told me about it," Hilary said quietly, refusing to take fire from his manner. "H'm, and I gather it's the first coarctation you've scrubbed for ... not an altogether happy state of affairs." "I think you must have misunderstood Sister Whitall. I have scrubbed for one before. I did two with'Mr. Benson when Sister was on holiday." Hilary fought to keep her temper under control. He glanced at her keenly. "I see. Perhaps if she were on holiday Sister was unaware of the fact, eh ? It might tell you that my technique differs somewhat from Mr. Benson's," he said dryly. "Yes, sir, I do know. I was second scrub for your last one." , He seemed somewhat disconcerted. "Were you? You people look so much alike behind your masks. See you in the morning, then. Nine-thirty sharp." "Yes, sir," Hilary said quietly. "We'll be ready." He turned on his heel and stalked off. Hilary watched. him go. She had heard so many tales of John Kirkall that she didn't know where legend ended and the man himself began. Though he was only thirty-six, people were already talking about his brilliant performances in cardiac surgery far beyond the walls of St. Edmund's. He drove himself mercilessly under the flail of his ambitions and he drove those who worked with him as hard, and it was said that they would either die gladly for him or else hated him bitterly. His curiously dark brown eyes had suggested that they expected to find her falling short of his requirements, and her own hardened with determination at the thought John Kirkall would find out for himself that he wasn't the only one with ambition to succeed in their chosen field. If 11 he was unfair enough to take her at Sister WithaU's valuation . . . "What a hating face that is. Sister Hunter," said a gently teasing voice. Hilary looked up to see Keith Benson smiling at her. "Did you want Sister Withall?" she enquired hastily. "She's at lunch." He nodded. "I know, I passed her on the way. She said Julia would make me a pot of tea." He looked at herinterestedly. "Are you scrubbing for my friend Kirkall tomorrow?" "Yes, Mr. Benson," she said slowly, wondering what he was getting at. "He's a very fine surgeon, you know. Pity our lists coincide. I would like to watch him at work. He has such a masterful way of using his hands ... so controlled, a delight to observe. You should get on well together you're both fighters provided of course you're both on the same side, and there's no reason why you shouldn't be, is there?" Keith Benson gave her a friendly little nod and continued on his way towards the Theatre Superintendent's office. Feeling completely bewildered, Hilary went to change out of theatre garb back into uniform. Why had he said that? After all, it was common knowledge (hat both Keith" Benson and John Kirkall were in the running for the post of chief consultant surgeon to the Group in cardiac surgery, so surely that made them rivals, and wouldn't it automatically make them enemies as well? Yet Keith Benson has spoken in an admiring and friendly way about the other surgeon. ...Hilary picked up her doak and started down the stairs. At the first bend she met Sister Withall, who gave her a sharp look. "You're very late. Sister. It isn't fair to the dining-room staff/Hilary forbode to remind her that it wasn't anyone's fault but her own that her junior Theatre Sister was late getting off for her half day. "Mr. Benson has just gone to your office. Sister," she said instead. 12 "I know. I sent him there," Alice Withall answered curtly, and went on up the stairs.. Hilary continued on her way without seeing that she was being observed by a small slim man with grey hair and calm blue eyes until he spoke almost in her ear. "You should try smothering her with kindness." "What? Oh, it's you. Doctor Jenkins. I didn't see you there." Hilary looked at him in startled disbelief. "Did you really say what I think you said?" He nodded. "I did. You'd be surprised what large doses of kindness can do." "I don't believe it ... not in her case. It's too late, the gall of bitterness has bitten too deep, "Hilary said, with such feeling that Andrew Jenkins laughed. "You watch. I'll try it one of these days. Are you taking Mr. Kirkall's case in the morning?" Hilary looked at him dosely. "I am. Dpn't you think I'm capable of handling it?" she challenged him. He lifted his eyebrows reproachfully. "I think you are more than capable of dealing with any case Mr. Kirkall chooses to do," he said gently. "Aren't you?" Hilary's mouth twisted slightly, "If you had asked me that question two months ago I would have answered yes without any hesitation. Now I"m beginning to doubt my own self-confidence!" A troubled expression fitted across his face. "Is that what she's doing to you? It's time, past time, I did something about it." He hesitated a moment and then went on quietly, "It might comfort you to know that I think it far more likely that you will prove to be a more suitable and capable person to take Mr. Kirkall's lists than Sister Withall herself." For the first time Hilary smiled.' "Thanks for the compliment, but you'd better not tell Sister Withall that!" She shrugged her shoulders. "We'll see. Are you giving the anaesthetic in the morning or have Theatre A. snaffled your services?" He laughed. "I'm starting them off at eight-thirty with the deep freeze, and my deputy can carry on after that unless they run into trouble, so I'll be giving yours." Hilary relaxed. "Thank heaven for that! It'll be one thing less to worry about." 13 "What else have you to worry about? You've been a Theatre Sister long enough to know your trade from A to Z, and not even an unfriendly atmosphere could make you forget the basic stuff." "I thought that would be one question you wouldn't ask. The anaesthetist is the one person who has time to see what goes on in theatre. You know what small boys the surgeons are when they think someone else has got the best instruments or the newest, and so on ... you don't need to be told that Sister Withall will have the pick of the cardiac stuff for tomorrow and I'm supposed to send my nurse over if I want anything special. You'd be surprised how long it takes to go those few steps between the two theatres, pass a message to Sister, and get the extra clamps it can't always be deliberate and the damps I've got on my mayo tray are quite adequate for the job, but they're not quite so shiny. I've got that to worry about, and seeing that the lab has sent up enough flasks of blood,
and wondering if the nurses are getting getting ready for the next case, and watching the clock so that I'm not late sending the nurses to tea or off duty, and will we be late finishing, and what about this afternoon's list, and is someone packing the drums, and are there enough sterile gowns left for the next list and Andrew Jenkins interrupted her by giving her a little shake. "Isn't it your half day, and didn't it begin more than half an hour ago? How can you expect to achieve your ambitions if you waste precious time and energy in worrying unnecessarily? Don't you realize that the energy you consume in ten minutes' worry might make all the difference at a critical moment?" Hilary sighed and the anger went out of her voice. "Sorry, Doctor Jenkins, I keep forgetting. I won't think about it again until I come on in the morning. I promise. He released her then. "Off you go, and have a nice half day. Find yourself a nice tall hill to dimb and the breeze will blow all your troubles away."She laughed. "You make it all sound so easy . . . pull the right string and the right mood pops out like a tune from a juke-box! Life's not that simple, and you should know it. You can pin on the labels, but it doesn't always' 14 follow that the label sticks. You should have been a psychologist instead of an anaesthetist!" He shook his head. "Anaesthetics are my trade and psychology is my hobby; it makes a good mixture. I must be off, or my surgeon will be shouting for me." "Karl says he'll be late," Hilary threw over her shoulder as she went on down the stairs. She felt much better now, as if talking to Andrew Jenkins had released some tightly coiled spring inside her, and the events of the morning lost their importance as resentment slid away. She had things more in perspective now and she could think calmly. After all, theatre work was her job, but not quite her whole life. It didn't really matter all that much to her whether John Kirkall or Keith Benson was the next chief consultant in cardiac surgery to the Group. She wouldn't be scrubbing for the winner. That would be Sister Withall's prerogative, and she would be left to take the cases of the runner-up or his successor. Hilary came down to the main corridor and hesitated for a moment, then went on to the side door that led out to the forecourt. She wouldn't bother going to the dining-room. She would make herself a snack when she got back to the flat she shared with the junior Theatre Sisters from one of the other hospitals in the Group. It was an arrangement that worked out very well, as there could be no personalities or jealousies left over from their duty hours to spoil their personal friendship. Hilary knew only too well that if they had both worked under Alice Withall they might have ended up hating one another. Honor Playdell greeted her with a smile when Hilary flopped down in the nearest chair. "I take it you've had one of those mornings too. I wonder why the nicest of women end up as nasty types once they get promoted to Theatre Superintendent? Perhaps it's a secret oath they take to prevent anyone even wanting to step into their shoes! I've got some soup heating up. That enough, or do you want something more?" Hilary unpinned her cap and tossed it across to the table. "That will be plenty, thanks. I was hungry earlier on, but that was a long, long time ago. There are times when I wonder why I ever thought I wanted to be a Theatre Sister. Maybe if I worked in another hospital ..." 15 Honor laughed scornfully. "Don't delude yourself, they're all the same at the top. Gall and wormwood is their daily hand-out to the troops." Hilary sighed. "Maybe it's the tension, the responsibility or something. Dear Doctor Jenkins suggests that she wants lots of kindness to turn her into something approaching a human being." Honor jumped to her .feet. "I'll get the soup. Who does he propose to do the dishing up of the first dose? You?" "Ask me tomorrow. At the moment, arsenic in her tea would be justifiable homicide. Do you want me to butter some bread?" Honor nodded. "Yes, if you will. I've got a date for half-past two. You doing anything exciting?" Hilary sighed. "I wouldn't have the strength or something. I'm going to get on my bike and find me a green leafy lane that the cars haven't discovered yet." "Better wear something cool. It's another scorcher in the making unless we have a thunderstorm." The two girls had their soup and brown bread and butter and decided that glasses of milk would be cooler than tea. Hilary washed up while Honor dashed off to get changed. The little flat was so quiet and peaceful after Honor had gone out that Hilary almost weakened, but she knew that if she stayed the happenings of the morning would keep on treading their vicious little circle through her thoughts. Once she had changed into her brief red linen shorts with their matching jacket and found a beach skirt to tie over them until she was safely away from the city streets she felt better. From long practice Hilary knew the shortest route out of the dty, and in less than twenty minutes the rows of houses were giving way to pleasant shady trees and the hot pavements had vanished and footpaths meandered along the grassy verges. The noise of traffic dwindled to a distant hum and birds chirped among the bushes. She cyded more slowly now and felt the harsh drive of her thoughts slacken, and presently her mind had forgotten the hospital and all its problems completely. Her eyes took in the delight of green hills and winding lanes between tall hedges, and her nose sniffed the heady scent 16 of flowers and new-mown hay drying in the sun and leaves curling upwards in the summer heat. The road ran- upwards now and she got off and began to push her bike. She could feel the warmth seeping through her and the breeze she had felt while riding had died away. She stopped long enough to take off her beach skirt and tuck it into her basket. Her legs were still brown from previous excursions, and looking at them she could forget that she spent most of her working hours swathed in heavy theatre kit. Hilary reached the top of the hill and pushed her bike through a gap in the hedge and sank down gratefully on a grassy slope. She fished in her pocket for a handkerchief and wiped her forehead. Honor had been right, it was a scorcher. The sky had that slightly hazy look that heat brought, and along the distant horizon clouds were building up their castellated ramparts. A small breeze rustled through the long grass and ruffled the honey-gold curls that clustered damply around her small head. She wondered idly whether she would enjoy sitting here in the sunshine day after day or would she miss the tense drama of life in the operating theatre? She drowsed contentedly on that pleasant hilside for nearly an hour until she bagan to feel thirsty. She could do with that cup of tea she had turned down earlier. Hilary found her map and began to plan where she would stop for tea. She didn't, want any place on a main road which would be bound to be crowded with tea-seeking motorists. She remembered then seeing a house the last time she had come this way that had a little sign saying in crooked lettering Pots of Tea.Hilary got to her feet and righted her bike . . . even the metal felt blistering hot, but it would be downhill to the teahouse of her choice, a long winding hill that swooped and' curved between high banks and turned sharply at the bottom. At this early hour there would be no homeward-bound traffic and she could pretend her bike was a winged steed. The wind roared in her ears and whipped back the hair from her face, and louder and louder grew the song of her spinning wheels ... on and on ... down and down . . . around this curve and that one . . . and now into the long steep stretch before the comer, keeping in dose to the bank now and braking 17 gently but not too strongly for fear that she would skid on the dusty surface. Now she was rounding that final sharp turn to watch out for that little crooked sign . . . Through the blur of the tears that the wind had brought to her eyes Hilary saw far too late the long low red sports car gathering speed for the hill and the space between it and the bank on her side was too narrow for the slimmest of riders ... Whether she hit the bank or the wing of the car Hilary was never too sure, but at that moment it didn't seem to matter. She was flying through the air like a bird, but it was a bird without wings, and all too soon she landed in the hedge with a thump that left her breathless and dazed. It was long minutes before she stirred and dedded she was still alive and that a hedge must be nothing but thorns. She could feel warm blood trickling from dozens of scratches, but before she could do anything about it there was a crashing sound coming closer and then an angry face was glaring down at her. "Why didn't you look where you were going? You might have been killed, you silly little fool!" Hilary h
ad time to notice that he had curiously dark brown eyes before reaction set in and sky and hedge and angry man whirled in a blinding kaleidoscope. She cried out once as a thorn dug into her vidously as he lifted her out of the hedge. When she finally managed to open her eyes the angry man was kneeling beside her dabbling at her scratches with gentle firmness and a very large dean handkerchief. "You might as well have worn a bikini and be done with it!" he said crossly. He squatted back on his heels and surveyed her moodily. "That's mopped up the worst of the damage. Nothing seems to be broken, although why will remain one of life's little mysteries. Do you usually come down hills with your eyes shut?" Hilary sat up abruptly and her eyes widened with indignation as if to disprove his accusation. "I didn't! There's never been such a big car at the comer when I've come down before." 18 "Lucky for you it wasn't a bus," he told her grimly. She looked at him closely for the first time, and sheer shock made her giggle weakly. "A bus could never get around that bend, sir." His eyebrows lifted slightly at her form of address, and then she realized that he hadn't recognized her, and perhaps it was just as well. "We can't sit here all afternoon, at least I can't. I'm late as it is. Where were you careering off to, by the way?" Hilary began to pull herself together. "I was on my way to have a pot of tea at the house by the bottom of the hill," she answered meekly. "Well, I suppose a cup of tea is as good treatment for shock as anything else. We'd better have a look at your bike. How about trying your feet?" He stood up and towered over her. Hilary obediently accepted the hand he held out to her and struggled to her feet. Every scratch seemed to be resenting the sudden movement, and for a moment she swayed and for that brief moment she rested against the tall man who held her so reluctantly. It was then that they both became aware of a persistent hooting from the roadway below. "Come on, someone else is obviously in a hurry to get around that corner," he said impatiently, and half pulled and half carried her down the bank. "What the blazes are you two playing at, blocking the road like that!" demanded an angry voice. "There's been an acddent," John Kirkall told the driver curtly. "Sorry, old man. How was I to know? Anyone badly hurt?" "Just scratched Oh, my poor bike!" Hilary stared at the machine which her rescuer was picking up gingerly. "It's not as bad as all that." John Kirkall pushed various sections with a pair of strong hands and then spun the wheels experimentally. "It's rideable . . . with care." Hilary advanced cautiously and took it from him. "Thank you very much," she said quietly. "Sorry I've been such a nuisance and made you late for your appointment." "What are you going to do now?" He seemed uncertain for the first time. 19 "I'm going to push my bike to that house and have my pot of tea, and after that I'm going to cyde carefully home again." Hilary's voice was full of determination. "Are you sure you can manage? If I didn't have this confounded visit to do I'd run you back . . . you could wait over your cup of tea until I'm finished." "I'll be quite all right, thank you all the same," Hilary said firmly. "I hate to interrupt," came a plaintive voice from the background, "but I really must get on, and there isn't a passing place until past the top of the hill." "Sorry. Be careful, then." John Kirkall got into his car and' drove off with a furious rush. The second driver started off more slowly and gave Hilary a wave of the hand as he left her standing there rather forlornly at the side of the road. She waited for the dust to settle and began to push her bike slowly, conscious that she was rather glad that she had it to lean upon. When she got to the house with the crooked sign saying Pots of Tea, a woman looked up from the flowers she was cutting with a startled exclamation. "You have knocked yourself about, dear! What happened?" Hilary explained, and the woman took her into the house, showed her to the bathroom where she could repair some of the damage and went off to make the pot of tea. Hilary stared at herself in the mirror. Several long scratches adorned her face and fresh oozing had mingled with perspiration and dust to 'present a rather alarming picture. Hilary moistened her handkerchief with cold water and deaned carefully around the abrasions on her face, then removed the worst of the marks from her legs. "All right, dear? Do you want some elastoplast for any of those scratches?" the woman asked from the doorway. "Perhaps for the ones on my legs. They'll get dusty going back." "You're not going to ride after that tossing-up, surely?" "They're not as bad as they look," Hilary assured her. "I'll be all right once I've had some tea." ' Several cups of tea later Hilary wasn't quite so sure. The cuts had had time to stiffen, and so had she, and getting to her feet took more effort than she bargained for. 20 f The woman looked at Hilary doubtfully as she gave her 'the change. "My husband could run you back in the van ; if you care to wait," she suggested. Hilary shook her head. "I'd rather be on my way," she ; said gratefully. "I'll be all right once I get going." I It was much cooler now as the sun had vanished behind j a doud and the stormy horizon had dosed in. Hilary :shivered a little as she pushed her bike through the gate land stared up at the long hill she had come down so blithely not so long ago. She didn't need her map to tell I her that the shortest way home was up that very hill. Her I legs felt as if they were made of lead long before she 'reached the top, and by the time she had dambered un? steadily on to her bike and began to roll cautiously down ?.the slope on the other side the first big drops of rain I were beginning to make large splotches on the dusty road. 'Long before the rows of houses came in sight the rain fwas pelting down furiously and Hilary's scratches were ''" smarting agonizingly and her wet clothing dung dammily I to her. A terrific gust of wind followed by a blinding .1 flash of lightning was accompanied almost immediately t by a tremendous dap of thunder whidi seemed directly overhead. Hilary half tumbled to a halt and stood dinging I to her bike, searching for some sort of shelter that wasn't ' a tree. A car screeched to a sudden standstill beside her, I throwing showers of water over her already drenched body. I "You silly little fool! You should have had the sense to wait. The woman said you'd gone on, although she tried to persuade you to stop," said a still angry voice in her F ear. >