east it would never know the lack of a worm
in season, nor the bitterness of early snow. This particular style of
comfort he had found very effective in cases other than baby birds, but
it didn't work with Ann.

"I don't care," she sobbed, "it might have lived anyway. It never had a
chance to live."

Living, just living, was with Ann clearly the great thing to be desired.

Callandar stopped comforting and took the child on his knee.

"I believe you've got the right idea, little Ann," he said. "It isn't so
much the sorrow that counts or the joy either, but just the living
through it. We're bound to get somewhere if we keep on. Don't cry any
more and we'll bury the little bird all done up in nice white fluffy
cotton. As Mrs. Burns says when any one dies: 'It's such a comfort to
have 'em put away proper.' And then after a while you and Bubble might
go fishing."

"I can't." Ann showed signs of returning tears. "If Aunt lets me go
anywhere, I promised to go and help Esther Coombe pick daisies to fix
the church for to-morrow."

Here was chance being kind indeed! But the doctor dissembled his
exultation.

"Hum! too bad. Where did Miss Esther tell you to go?" he asked
guilelessly.

"To the meadow over against the school."

"What time?"

"Half past two."

"Well, cheer up, I'll tell you what--I'll go and help Miss Esther pick
the daisies. I can pick quite as fast as you. And I'll speak to Aunt
Sykes and make it right with her. So if you run now and get dressed you
and Bubble may go just as soon as you've had breakfast. And stay all
day. Be sure you stay all day, mind."

A good sound hug was the natural answer to this and when the
conspirators met at breakfast everything had been satisfactorily
arranged. Ann had her holiday and the doctor's way lay clear before him.
For all his apparent ignorance Callandar knew that daisy field quite as
well as Ann. It was wild and lonely, yet full of cosy nooks and hollows.
Mild-eyed cows sometimes pastured there. It was a perfect paradise for
meadow-larks. Could any man ask better than to meet the girl he loved in
a field like that?

"You're not eating a mite, Doctor."

With a start, Callandar helped himself to marmalade.

* * * * *

So much for the morning of the eventful day. We have given it in detail
because it was so commonplace, so empty of any incident which might have
foreshadowed the happenings of the afternoon. Callandar was restless