hter."

Horror and loathing swept into the surgeon's eyes, but he controlled
himself. "Mr. Blizzard," said he presently, "I find it hard to take you
seriously. _Are_ you joking? Whether you are or not, the thing is a
joke. If you really care for my daughter, I am very, very sorry for you.
I can't say more. If nothing worse threatens her than the possibility of
her heart being touched by you, there is no need for me to be anxious
about her. As for telling her the truth about you and me, why not?"

"_You_ tell her."

"I will. To-night"

"Won't you be playing into my hands?"

"No," said the surgeon curtly, "she has too much common-sense."

"But you won't tell her what I've said?" The beggar was suddenly
anxious.

"No," and Dr. Ferris smiled, "I may safely leave that to you."

"Damnation," cried Blizzard, "you are laughing at me."

Dr. Ferris's face became serious at once. "God forbid that!" he said.
"If you have spoken sincerely I feel only sorrow for you and pity--more
sorrow and pity for you even than I ever felt before."

"S-s-s-s-t," exclaimed the beggar, and his ears twitched. "She's
coming."

"I shall wait," said Dr. Ferris, "and take her uptown, when she has
finished working."

"Well," said Blizzard, with a kind of humorous resignation, "I'd kick
you out if I could; but I can't." And he added: "You haven't got an
extra pair of legs about you, have you?"

"Why!" said Barbara when she saw her father. "Art _is_ looking up.
_You_ in a studio!"

Secretly his presence pleased her immensely. She had always hoped that
some day he would take enough interest in her work to come to see it
uninvited. And she now felt that this had happened. And she thanked
Blizzard with sincerity for having waited.

"Mr. Blizzard and I," she told her father, "are doing a bust. And
whatever anybody else thinks, we think it's an affair of great
importance. Mr. Blizzard even gives me his time and his judgment
for nothing."

"Well," Dr. Ferris smiled, "I am willing to give you the latter, on the
same terms. May I see what you've done?"

Barbara removed the cloths from the bust, and so life-like and tragic
was the face which suddenly confronted him that Dr. Ferris, instead of
stepping forward to examine it closely, stepped backward as if he had
been struck. And then:

"My dear," he said gravely, "the thing's alive."

He looked from the bust to his daughter, and felt as if he was meeting
some very gifted and important person