'the great singer, yes, my daughter, sir--my
little baby!'"

Harriet nestled closer.

"But I want to help now. I'm afraid I've been thoughtless and selfish.
You look so miserable to-night. It cuts me to the heart."

"Nonsense, Baby dear," he broke in cheerfully. "I'm not miserable. I've
really had a good day. I've spent the whole afternoon superintending
the distributing of flowers among the hospitals. And I've discovered a
curious thing--you couldn't imagine what it is?"

The doctor paused and laughed in his old playful way.

"What?" she cried.

Harriet clapped her hands with a moment's childish happiness as she had
done so often when her father propounded one of his mysterious problems
for her solution.

The doctor whispered:

"I've discovered that pinks are feminine and roses masculine."

"How?"

"Because the men in the hospitals all beg for pinks and the women for
roses. It's curious. I never hit on the explanation before. Isn't it
reasonable?"

"Yes, quite," was the sober answer. "But it doesn't explain the lines
of suffering in your dear face to-night--I'm worried."

"But I'm not suffering!" he insisted with a frown. "On the other hand
I'm cheerful to-night. I saved a kid's life with a flower. His father
used to work for me in the old days. They asked me to come to see him.
There was no hope. He had been given up to die. I gave him a fragrant
white pink. His thin feverish fingers grasped it eagerly. In all his
life he had never held a flower in his hand before. He pressed it to
his lips, his soul thrilled at its sweet odour, and the little tired
spirit came staggering back from the mists of Eternity just to see what
it meant. He will live. It was the feather's weight that tipped the
beam of life the right way. How little it takes sometimes to give life
and happiness. And how tragic and pitiful the fact that so many of us
can't get that little at the right moment!"

The joy and laughter had slowly faded from his face and voice as he
spoke until the last words had unconsciously fallen into accents of
despair.

The girl's arms slipped around his neck in a tightening hold and she
pressed her cheek against his a moment in silence.

"Papa dear, it's no use trying to deceive me. I've the right to know
what is troubling you. I'm not a child. You must tell me."

"Why, it's nothing much, dearie," he answered gently. "I'm worried a
little about money. I've a note due at the bank and they've called on
me