ss the school just at four
o'clock, and give Pearl and the rest of them a ride home, and the
delight he had always had in her fresh young face, so full of lights
and shadows.

"Robbing the cradle, eh, Doc?" Sam Motherwell had once said, in his
clumsy way, when he met them on the road--"Nothin' like pickin' them
out young and trainin' them up the way you want them."

He had made no answer to this, but he still felt the wave of anger
that swept over him at the blundering words. "All the same, I wish
Pearl were older"--he had admitted to himself that day. "If she
keeps her wise little ways and her clever tongue, she'll be a great
woman--she has a way with her."

At the rink, he had always looked forward to a skate with her--it was
really a dull night for him if she were not there, and now he wondered
just what it was that attracted him so. There was a welcoming gladness
in her eyes that flattered him, a comradeship in her conversation that
drew him on to talk with more ease and freedom; there was a wholesome
friendliness in what she said, which always left him a sense of
physical and mental well-being.

"What a nurse she would make," he thought, "what a great nurse;" "I
wish she were older ... eighteen is too young for a girl to marry--I
wouldn't allow it at all--if I didn't know who she is getting--that
makes all the difference in the world ... of course her father and
mother may object, but I believe what Pearl says, goes--what Pearl
says will go--with all of us! The Parker house can be bought--and
fixed up ... we'll have a fireplace put in, and waterworks--I wish I
did not feel so tough and tired ... but she said she'd wait a thousand
years!"

Suddenly the voice of Dr. Brander rasped through his brain, and
brought him to attention:

"Clay, you're in love, or something--I don't believe you've heard a
word I said, you young scamp, in the last six miles--and you've missed
a fine exposition on cancers--causes and cure."

"I beg your pardon, Dr. Brander," he apologized, "I believe I was
almost asleep. I get into a drowsy habit on my long drives--especially
when I am coming home--when the days' work is over--it seems good to
stretch out--but I do apologize: What were you saying?"

"O, I'm done now," said his companion, not in the least disturbed; "I
want you to tell me about yourself and your work here. You know you
interest me, Clay. You are a sort of popular idol with all these
people, and I have been wondering h