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"It's against regulations, miss," Barry heard him say, "and besides, you
know, we're expecting a hospital train any minute, and every car will be
needed."
"Then I'll take my own car," she said. "It's all ready and has the
chains on, sergeant, I think."
"Yes, it's quite ready, but you will get me into trouble, miss."
"Then, I'll get you out again. Load those things in, while I run and
change--I'm going to drive you out to your camp," she said to Barry as
she hurried away.
The sergeant shook his head as he looked after her.
"She's a thoroughbred, sir," he said. "We jump when she asks us for
anything. She's a real blooded one; not like some, sir--like some of
them fullrigged ones. They keep 'er 'oppin'."
"Fullrigged ones?" inquired Barry.
"Them nurses, I mean, sir. They loves to 'awe them--them young
'Vaddies,' as we call them--V. A. D., you know, sir. They keeps 'em a
'oppin' proper--scrubbin' floors, runnin' messages, but Miss Vincent,
she mostly drives a car."
While the sergeant was dilating upon the virtues and excellences of the
young V.


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