she had made a fool of herself. It was worse to
remember the look in his face, during those last awful moments in the
studio. Even if the bust she had made of him was a great work of art,
she had paid too high for the privilege of making it.

XXXIV

Dr. Ferris was delighted to learn that Barbara had left town. Her
meetings with Blizzard had been horribly on his mind and conscience. He
had dreaded some vague calamity--some intangible darkening of his
darling's soul.

A few days in the country had worked wonders for her. Her skin had
browned a little, and her cheeks were crimson. But dearer to the
paternal heart than these evidences of good health was the fact that she
seemed unusually glad to see him. She seemed to him to have lost a world
of independence and self-reliance, to be inclined to accept his
judgments without dispute. She seemed more womanly and more daughterly,
more normal and more beautiful.

For a man with a heavy weight always upon his conscience, the excellent
surgeon found himself wonderfully at peace with the world and its
institutions. There was no doubt that the hand which he had come from
grafting was going to live and be of some use to its new owner. His mail
was heavy with approbation. And it seemed to him that the path which he
had discovered had no ending.

"In a hundred years, Barbara," he said, "it will be possible to replace
anything that the body has lost, or that has become diseased and useless
or a menace--not the heart, perhaps, nor the brain--but anything else.
What I have done clumsily others will do to perfection."

"What are the chances for Blizzard?"

"Even," said the surgeon. "They would be more favorable if he had not
lost his legs so long ago. At the worst the experiment wouldn't kill
him. He would merely have undergone a useless operation. At the best he
would be able to walk, run perhaps, and look like a whole man. If
anything is to be done for him, the time has come. He has only to tell
me to go ahead."

"I think he'll do that," said Barbara. "But there's one thing I don't
understand," and she smiled; "who is to supply the spare legs?"

"That's the least of all the difficulties," said her father, "now that
ways of keeping tissues alive have been discovered and proved. In time
there will be storages from which any part of the human body may be
obtained on short notice and in perfect condition for grafting. Just now
the idea is horrible to ignorant people, but