"Working nights in a London hospital is no life for a young girl!" Her mother hadn't actually said it, but Judith knew she was thinking it. In a way, Judith agreed, but what else could she do? Marry Nigel? No, she didn't love him. She had no great feeling for any man--except Charles Cresswell--and that was certainly not love. But could her feeling possibly have any bearing on her agreeing to nurse his mother in his home?