again; this time he asked the salesman. Then he
spoke low:

"Fifteen dollars seems 'not costly' to you, I suppose. Think of Bob
yesterday, with not a toy to his name."

"That's why I want to give him one to-day."

"He'll be just as happy riding a stick--as soon as he forgets this."

"He won't forget it. Look at his eyes."

"You're looking at his eyes all the time. That's what undoes you."

He had to look away from her eyes then himself, or he felt quite
suddenly that he, too, would have been undone. He had resisted the
entreaty in women's eyes many times, but not always, despite the
reputation he held for indifference.

"Doctor Burns, won't you give me this one pleasure? You've really been
quite firm all the morning."

She was smiling, but he had himself in hand again and he was blunt
with her. "Bob's bachelor's child now," he said. "He must be trained
according to bachelors' ideas. Come, you know it's out of reason to give
the youngster any more to-day. Be sensible."

They followed him out of the store, Bob's hand held fast in hers.
Somehow, they both looked very young as they stood outside the shop
window, gazing back at the marvellous display within. He felt as if he
were being rather cruel to them both. This was absurd, of course, when
one considered the box of blocks, the train of cars and the toolkit. The
child had enough playthings already to send him out of his head. Burns
drove away rapidly to get out of range of other windows which seemed
filled with rocking-horses to-day.

He looked down at Bob.

"Happy, little chap?" he asked.

Bob nodded. His arms clasped the red train but he was not looking at it.

"Like the cars?"

Bob nodded. His wide sailor hat obscured his face. Burns could see only
the tip of the small nose.

"You'll have a splendid time with those blocks, won't you?"

Again the nod, but no reply.

"The hammer's pretty nice, too, isn't it?"

Once more the dumb answer. But the silence seemed odd, for Bob had long
since lost his fear 'of these companions.

"Look up here, Bob."

Reluctantly the child obeyed. Burns caught one fleeting glimpse of wet
black lashes. One big tear was slowly stealing down the pale little
cheek.

"What's the matter, old man?"

No reply.

Burns looked at Ellen Lessing behind Bob's back. She did not meet his
glance. She was looking at the boy. It struck him that her profile made
the most enchanting outline he had ever seen. He tried to steel his
he