This was a large, fine house in the suburbs, given up by its patriotic owner to the use of the Red Cross.

As they turned in at the gate they could see an attractive garden, where groups of Tommies in their blue invalid uniforms were lounging in deck chairs, or lying full length on rugs spread upon the grass.

An orderly showed them to the office, where Miss Beach had a brief interview with the Commandant, and they were then escorted by a V.A.D.nurse to the Queen Mary Ward.
Winona had not been in a hospital before, so all was new to her--the large airy room with its polished floor and wide-open windows, the rows of beds, each with its little cupboard by the side, the table full of flowers in the center, the nurses in their neat Red Cross uniforms.

She had no time, however, for more than a hurried glance round; her eyes were busy searching for the one particular bed that was the object of their journey.
"Private Woodward is in Number eleven," said the V.A.D., motioning them to the right-hand side of the room.
Percy lay on his back with a cradle over his injured leg.

His face was very white and thin, and greatly changed.