DOCTOR HUDSON'S SECRET JOURNAL 115

"I am glad," I said. "Very glad."

Dorothy's face lighted and she looked me squarely in the
eyes. She gave me her hand.

"Well—good-bye—for this time/' she said, sweetly. "And
—thanks—for—for everything. You've given me such a
wonderful chance to be what I want to be."

I held her hand for a moment, debating a reply. It would
have been very pleasant to me if I could have risked saying
I had guessed the secret, and was proud of her. But I felt
that any such comment might damage the joy she had
found. These are things you can't talk about.

I simply smiled into her eyes and said good-bye. She
waved a hand as she went through the door, and her lips
were parted in a radiant smile. I know that she knows that
I know—and she is glad that I wouldn't venture a word
about it.

Dorothy and I now belong to a strange little fraternity that
makes no signs, speaks no pass-words; but has a mutual
understanding that is rich and deep and full.

These are crowded days. We are having an increasing
number of emergency cases. More people are driving auto-
mobiles. The roads are being improved. Everybody is driving
faster. Last year there were sixty-six persons killed outright
in this country; double the number for the preceding twelve
months. I wonder how this reckless destruction of life is to
be checked. No one seems to be doing anything about it.
Perhaps the law makers would be more alert to this problem
if they could spend a day in our hospital and see the mangled
people brought in for repairs.