uriel Roscoe. Her black hair was simply plaited and gathered up at
the neck. It lay in cloudy masses about her temples--wonderful hair,
quite lustreless, so abundant that it seemed almost too much for the
little head that bore it. She did not rise at her father's entrance.
She scarcely raised her eyes.

"So glad you've come, Daddy," she said, in a soft, low voice. "I've
been wanting you. It's nearly bedtime, isn't it?"

He went to her, treading lightly. His thoughts had been all of her for
the past few hours and in consequence he looked at her more critically
than usual. For the first time he was struck by her pallor, her look
of deathly weariness. On the table near her lay a plate of boiled rice
piled high in a snowy pyramid. He saw that it had not been touched.

"Why, child," he said, a sudden new anxiety at his heart "you have had
nothing to eat. You're not ill?"

She roused herself a little, and a very faint colour crept into her
white cheeks. "No, dear, only tired--too tired to be hungry," she told
him. "That rice is for you."

He sat down beside her with a sound that was almost a groan. "You must
eat something, child," he said. "Being penned up here takes away your
appetite. But all the same you must eat."

She sat up slowly, and pushed back the heavy hair from her forehead
with a sigh.

"Very well, Daddy," she said submissively. "But you must have some
too, dear. I couldn't possible eat it all."

Something in his attitude or expression seemed to strike her at this
point, and she made a determined effort to shake off her lethargy. A
spoon and fork lay by the plate. She handed him the former and kept
the latter for herself.

"We'll have a picnic, Daddy." she said, with a wistful little smile.
"I told _ayah_ always to bring two plates, but she has forgotten. We
don't mind, though, do we?"

It was childishly spoken, but the pathos of it went straight to the
man's heart. He tasted the rice under her watching eyes and pronounced
it very good; then waited for her to follow his example which she did
with a slight shudder.

"Delicious, Daddy, isn't it?" she said. And even he did not guess what
courage underlay the words.

They kept up the farce till the pyramid was somewhat reduced; then by
mutual consent they suffered their ardour to flag. There was a faint
colour in the girl's thin face as she leaned back again. Her eyes were
brighter, the lids drooped less.

"I had a dream last night, Daddy," she said,