the only sign of emotion was in the tremor
of his hands.

He studied the sick girl as closely as he could without seeming to
stare. She was even more lovely than he had thought. His eyes,
accustomed only to rough women, found in her beauty that which was
flower-like, seraphic.

Her face was very thin, and her neck too slender to uphold the heavy
masses of her brown hair. Her hands were only less expressive of
suffering than her face. The father was as bluff and portly and
irascible as she was patient and gentle. He bullied the waiter because
he did not know how else to express his anxiety.

"Waiter, this steak is burned--it's hard as sole leather. Take it back
and bring me----"

"Please don't, father; the trouble is with me. I have no desire for
food." She smiled at the waiter so sweetly that he nodded as if to
say, "I don't mind him, miss."

The father turned his attention to the country.

"Yes, there is another fraud. I was told it would help your appetite,
and here you are with less than when you left Hot Springs. If I'd had
my way----"

She laid a hand on his arm, and when he turned toward her his eyes
were dim with tears. He blew his nose and coughed, and looked away
after the manner of men, and suffered in silence.

Once she turned and looked at Clement, and her eyes had a mystical,
impersonal look, as though she saw him afar off, not as an individual
but as a type of some admirable elemental creature. He could not
fathom her attitude toward him, but he thought he saw in her every
action the expression of a soul that had relinquished its hold on
things of the earth. Her desire to live was no longer personal. She
did all that she did for her father and her friends wholly to please
them.

The desire to aid her came upon Clement again--so powerful it carried
with it an unwavering belief that he could help her.

What was his newly-acquired wealth good for if he could not aid her?
Wealth? Yes--his blood! He looked at his great brown hand and at his
big veins full of blood. Why should she die when he had so much life?

Meanwhile his common sense had not entirely fled him. He perceived
that they were not poor, and he reflected that they had probably tried
all climates and all the resources of medical science; also that the
father had quite as much red blood in his veins as any other man; and
these considerations gave him thought as he watched them rise and go
out upon the little veranda.

Clement was not