ank you for that," breathed Barbara, "more than for anything else."

* * * * *

Eloise went away humming to herself, but she stopped as soon as she was
out of sight of the house. "The little thing," she thought; "the dear,
brave little thing! A face like an angel, and that cross old woman, and
that beautiful old man who sees with his soul. And all that exquisite
work and the prices those brutal women paid her for it. Blind and lame,
and nothing to be done."

Then another thought made her brown eyes very bright. "But I'm not so
sure of that--we'll see."

[Sidenote: A Request]

She wrote many letters that afternoon, and all were for Barbara. The
last and longest was to Doctor Conrad, begging him to come at the first
possible moment and go with her to see a poor broken child who might be
made well and strong and beautiful.

"And," the letter went on, "perhaps you could give her father back his
eyesight. She calls me her Fairy Godmother, and I rely upon you to keep
my proud position for me. Any way, Allan, dear, please come, won't you?"

[Sidenote: Awaiting Results]

She closed it with a few words which would have made him start for the
Klondike that night, had there been a train, and she asked it of him;
posted it, and hopefully awaited results.

IX

Taking the Chance

[Sidenote: Dr. Conrad Comes]

"Well, I'm here," remarked Doctor Conrad, as he sat on the beach with
Eloise. "I have left all my patients in the care of an inferior, though
reputable physician, who has such winning ways that he may have annexed
my entire practice by the time I get back.

"If you'll tell me just where these protegees of yours are, I'll go up
there right away. I'll ring the bell, and when they open the door I'll
say: 'I've come from Miss Wynne, and I'm to amputate this morning and
remove a couple of cataracts this afternoon. Kindly have the patients
get ready at once.'"

"Don't joke, Allan," pleaded Eloise. Her brown eyes were misty and her
mood of exalted tenderness made her in love with all the world. "If you
could see that brave little thing, with her beautiful face and her
divine unselfishness, hobbling around on crutches and sewing for a
living, meanwhile keeping her blind old father from knowing they are
poor, you'd feel just as I do."

[Sidenote: Discussing the Case]

"It is very improbable," returned Allan, seriously, "that anything can
be done. If they were well-to-do, they un