eaded for Swift River, whose broken,
winding course he followed upward until he reached the rapids of rushing
molten silver and the low, but dangerous, fall which marked the spot of
the early tragedy in the child's life. As he stood there, cap in hand,
the sound of a low treble voice in song fell on his ears, coming from a
place not far distant.

Some one, alone under the cathedral arches of the forest, was softly
chanting the words of the simple, familiar hymn, "Nearer, My God, to
Thee," and, impelled by the unusualness of the thing at such an hour and
in such a place, Donald moved quietly forward until the solitary singer
was in view.

It was Rose. She was kneeling beside a low, rounded mound covered with
fresh-gathered forest vines, and sprinkled with wild flowers.

The meaning of the picture flashed at once into the man's mind. This was
the "birthday" of little Smiles--the anniversary of her advent to a new
life--and this her yearly pilgrimage of love and filial homage to those
barely remembered two who had given her being.

Donald waited in silence, leaning against a concealing tree trunk, until
the child had ended her act of simple devotion by throwing an unaffected
kiss from her finger tips, not towards the dead earth, but upwards to
the spirit world above.

[Illustration: "SHE WAS KNEELING BESIDE A LOW, ROUNDED MOUND"]

Then, as she arose and moved slowly away, her light step barely
disturbing the grass, Donald followed and overtook her. The girl's
greeting, although more subdued than on the morning before, was none the
less delighted, and, with her hand snuggled warmly in his, they made
their way to the cabin.

"I bids ye welcome, doctor," sang out Big Jerry, as he caught sight of
them. "Hit shor' air a fine day fer ter spend in ther woods."

"And I cannot spend it there," answered Donald, ruefully. "I've been
called back to the city to attend a little sick patient, and leave
Fayville on the noon train."

"Wall, now, thet air too bad, an' hit's mighty kind er ye ter come way
up hyar erfore yo' left," said the old man, while the girl's new
disappointment, caused by the announcement, was evident enough without
verbal expression.

"I brought you a package of tobacco, a little token of my appreciation
for your kindness to me night before last, Mr. Webb; and Rose a
'birthday' gift, just a few sweets in a basket which I found at the
store, and which struck me as pretty."

Jerry stumblingly expressed his