gift possibly be better? No, surely none.... Wait a minute,
though! Let's take this thing slowly and be absolutely sure we're right
before we go ahead.... Run over carefully all the things that are ever
used as gifts. Anything there that is better than mitts? Perhaps, after
all ... Mitts ... Why, look here, isn't there one small objection, one
trifling want of the fulness of perfection to be raised against the gift
of mitts?"

"There's this point against mitts," said Sharlee slowly. "Fifi's in bed
now, and I'm afraid she's likely to be there for some time. Of course
she could not wear the mitts in bed. She would have to tuck them away in
a drawer somewhere. Don't you think it might be a good idea to give her
something that she could enjoy at once--something that would give her
pleasure _now_ and so help to lighten these tedious hours while she must
be in her room?"

The mitts were the child of Queed's own brain. Unconsciously he had set
his heart on them; but his clock-like mind at once grasped the logic of
this argument, and he met it generously.

"Your point is well taken. It proves the wisdom of getting the advice of
a woman on such a matter. Now I had thought also of a book--"

"I'll tell you!" cried Sharlee, nearly bowled over by a brilliant
inspiration. "A _great_ many men that I know make it a rule to send
flowers to girls that are sick, and--"

"_Flowers!_"

"It does seem foolish--_such_ a waste, doesn't it?--but really you've no
idea how mad girls are about flowers, or how much real joy they can
bring into a sick-room. And, by changing the water often, and--so on,
they last a _long_ time, really an incredible time--"

"You recommend flowers, then? Very well," he said resolutely--"that is
settled then. Now as to the kind. I have only a botanical knowledge of
flowers--shall we say something in asters, perhaps, chrysanthemums or
dahlias? What is your advice as to that?"

"Well, I advise roses."

"Roses--good. I had forgotten them for the moment. White roses?"

A little shiver ran through her. "No, no! Let them be the reddest you
can find."

"Next, as to the cost of red roses."

"Oh, there'll be no trouble about _that_. Simply tell the florist that
you want seventy-five cents' worth, and he will give you a fine bunch of
them. By the way, I'd better put his name and address down on a piece of
paper for you. Be sure to go to this one because I know him, and he's
extremely reliable."

He took the sli