in
the Fenway, where Smiles was taken to Mrs. Merriman's maternal bosom,
and, after humbly begging his ward from them for the next afternoon,
when he meant to introduce her to his family, Donald departed,
whistling.

Tired, but strangely contented, Rose was at last shown to her dainty
pink and white bedroom, with its inviting brass bed, beside which she
knelt for a long time in thankful prayer. Nor was it strange, perhaps,
that her pillow was moist with tears of gratitude and happiness before
she fell asleep.

Smiles awoke early. The air in the room was very cold, but during her
trip northward she had learned the mysteries of steam radiators, and she
sprang up, closed the windows, and turned on the heat with a little
silent laugh as her thoughts travelled back to the rude cabin on the
mountain. In memory she saw herself crawl shiveringly from her bed, in
the cold gray of a Winter daybreak, clad only in a plain nightgown, to
build a blaze in the big stone fireplace so that the room might be warm
for Big Jerry when he awoke. The smile faded from her lips, and they
trembled slightly as she whispered his name. Poor grandpap, he had
suffered sadly from the cold during those last few months when he could
not keep the circulation up in his massive body by accustomed exercise.

Below her lay the still sleeping city. Snow covered the untenanted
portions of the Fens, and hid its ugly nakedness with a soft mantle,
which seemed to hold a silken sheen, as the first flush of morning
touched it. How strange all her surroundings appeared. Gone was the far
sweeping expanse of forest-clad mountain side, stretching off to the
sunrise; in its place lay a level space closed in by substantial
buildings of marble, granite and brick--the Art Museum, Latin School and
clustered hospitals,--their walls changing from ghostly gray to growing
rose and gold. She drew a comfortable dressing gown--the gift of her new
friend--about her girlish form, and sat down by the window in the
familiar posture with her chin on her cupped hands. By Miss Merriman's
description of the view which the window gave upon she recognized the
creamy brick building of the Children's Hospital, snuggled like a gentle
sister by the side of the impressive marble walls of its big brother,
the Harvard Medical School, and, as the light grew and gave definition
to its outlines, she felt as though it were actually drawing nearer to
her. In imagination she went to meet it; she enter