stars and others. If Harriet could only be placed on the
programme for a single song it would be settled! Her voice would sweep
Bivens off his feet and charm the brilliant throng of guests. He would
have to accompany her there of course. At the right moment he would
make himself known; a word with Bivens and it would be settled.

He imagined in vivid flashes the good-natured scene between them, the
astonishment of the financier that his little girl had grown into such
a wonderful woman and his pleasure in recalling the days when she used
to play hide and seek behind the counter of the old drug store.

He lost no time in finding out the manager of the professional singers
for the evening and through Harriet's enthusiastic music teachers
arranged for her appearance.

From the moment this was accomplished his natural optimism returned.
His success was sure. He gave his time with renewed energy to his work
among the poor.

On the day of the ball Harriet was waiting in a fever of impatience for
his return from the hospitals to dress. At half past seven their dinner
was cold and he had not come. It was eight o'clock before his familiar
footstep echoed through the hall.

Harriet kissed him tenderly.

"I'm glad you're safe at home at last--now hurry."

"I'll not delay you much. I can dress in thirty minutes. My! my! but
you're glorious to-night, child! I never saw you look so beautiful!"

She pushed him into the dining room, crying:

"Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! This is really the first night in my career.
Jim's been gone an hour. Dinner up there begins at eight."

"But my star does not rise to sing before eleven--the ball begins at
twelve. I've plenty of time to love you a minute or two."

He drew her near again and kissed her.

"I wouldn't exchange my little girl's crown of gold for all the yellow
coin of the millionaires we shall see to-night."

"And I wouldn't give the father with the loving heart and stainless
name for the Kingdom of Mammon."

"That's a beautiful saying, my own, I shall not forget it; and now I'll
hurry."

He ate a hasty meal, dressed in thirty minutes, and at nine o'clock led
Harriet to the side entrance of Bivens's great house on the Drive.

He was in fine spirits. The reaction from the tension of a pitiful
tragedy of sin and shame he had witnessed in the afternoon had lifted
him to spiritual heights. For the life of him he couldn't look at his
own troubles seriously. They seemed trivial in a