and Harriet stood smiling at him.

"What an actor you would have made, Papa!" she exclaimed.

"Why?"

"I've been watching you play a great scene, all the characters by
yourself."

"A foolish habit, dear!" the father laughed. "Always muttering and
talking to myself. I suppose I'll be arrested for a lunatic some day."

He stopped suddenly and looked at Harriet closely.

"Come here, Baby."

She came and stood beside his chair. He pressed her hand tenderly.

"What have you been crying about?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh, nothing much," was the low answer. "I really don't know--perhaps
the thing that makes the birds out there in the Square chirp while the
snow is still on the ground, the feeling that Spring is coming."

"You're keeping something from me, dearest," he whispered, slipping his
arm about her waist. "Tell me."

"You really believe in my voice, don't you?" she asked slowly.

"Believe in it? Do I believe in God?"

"Could I go abroad right away and finish my work there?"

She asked the question with such painful intensity, the father looked
up with a start.

"What's the matter, dear?"

The girl slipped her arm around his neck with a sob.

He bent and kissed the golden hair, stroking it fondly until she was
calmer.

"Why do you wish to go now, child?" he asked at last.

"I've a confession to make, Papa dear."

The little head sank low and the arm tightened its grip about his neck.

"What is it, darling? I'm sure it's nothing of which you're ashamed."

"No, something of which I'm proud. Something so sweet and wonderful in
itself, the very joy of it I feel sometimes will kill me. I'm in love,
desperately and hopelessly."

Again a sob caught her voice, and the father's arms drew her to his
heart and held her.

"But why hopelessly, my baby?" he asked. "Your hair is beaten gold,
your eyes are deep and true, your slender little form has all the
symmetry and beauty of a sylph. You are young, radiant, glorious, and
your voice the angels would envy."

"But the man I love doesn't realize all that yet, Papa dear. He is
bound by the memories of the past to a woman he once loved, a woman who
is evil at heart, and though she betrayed him for the lust of money, is
determined to hold him still her slave. But she shall not. I'll fight
for him! And you'll help me, Papa, won't you?"

The father drew her close.

"Won't I--just wait and see!--But you haven't told me his name? I've
been very blind, I fear."