Bob whistled, and Bumble exclaimed: "Well, for goodness gracious sakes! What are you up to now ?" For Nan, instead of wearing the pretty gown which Bumble knew she had brought in her suitcase, was garbed in the complete costume of a trained nurse.

A white pique skirt and linen shirt-waist of immaculate and starched whiteness, an apron with regulation shoulder-straps, and a cap that betokened a graduate of St.Luke's Hospital, formed her surprising, but not at all unbecoming, outfit.
Nan's roguish face looked very demure under the white cap, and she smiled pleasantly when Patty at last recovered her wits sufficiently to introduce her father.
"Nan," she said, "if this is really you, let me present my father; and, papa, this is supposed to be Miss Nan Allen, but I never saw her look like this before." "I am very glad to meet you, Miss Allen," said Mr.Fairfield, "and though we are all apparently very well at present, one can never tell how soon there may be need of your professional services." "I hope not very soon," said Nan, laughing; "for my professional knowledge is scarcely sufficient to enable me to adjust this costume properly." "It seems to be on all right," said Patty, looking at it critically; "but where in the world did you get it?
And what have you got it on for?
We're not going to a masquerade." "I put it on," said Nan, "because I couldn't help myself.

I wanted to change my travelling gown, and when I opened my suit-case this is all there was in it, except some combs and brushes and bottles." "Whew!" said Bob.

"When I picked up that suit-case I wasn't quite sure I had the right one.

You know I went back for it after we left the train at New Brunswick, and you said it was the only one in the world with a handle on the end." "I thought it was," said Nan, "but it seems somebody else was clever enough to have an end-handle too, and she was a trained nurse, apparently." "Many of the new suit-cases have handles on the end," said Mr.Fairfield, "though not common as yet I have seen a number of them.