his father's arm. "Dad,
who is that big man down there--with the red head--the one who bowed to
you?"

"Dr. McKenzie, Bruce McKenzie, the nerve specialist--"

Of course it was something to know that, but one didn't get very far.

"Let's go somewhere and eat," said the General, and that was the end of
it. Out of the tail of his eye, Derry Drake saw the two figures with
the copper-colored heads move down the aisle, to be finally merged into
the indistinguishable stream of humanity which surged towards the door.

Jean and her father did not go to supper at the big hotel around the
corner as was their custom.

"I've got to get to the hospital before twelve," the Doctor said. "I
am sorry, dear--"

"It doesn't make a bit of difference. I don't want to eat," she
settled herself comfortably beside him in the car. "Oh, it is snowing,
Daddy, how splendid--"

He laughed. "You little bundle of--ecstasy--what am I going to do with
you?"

"Love me. And isn't the snow--wonderful?"

"Yes. But everybody doesn't see it that way."

"I am glad that I do. I should hate to see nothing in all this
miracle, but--slush tomorrow--"

"Yet a lot of life is just--slush tomorrow--. I wish you need never
find that out--."

When Jean went into the house, and her father drove on, she found Hilda
waiting up for her.

"Father had to go to the hospital."

"Did you have anything to eat?"

"No."

"I thought I might cook some oysters."

"I am really not hungry." Then feeling that her tone was ungracious,
she tried to make amends. "It was nice of you to think of it--"

"Your father may like them. I'll have them hot for him."

Jean lingered uncertainly. She didn't want the food, but she hated to
leave the field to Hilda. She unfastened her cloak, and sat down.
"How are you going to cook them?"

"Panned--with celery."

"It sounds good--I think I'll stay down, Hilda."

"As you wish."

The Doctor, coming in with his coat powdered with snow, found his
daughter in a big chair in front of the library fire.

"I thought you'd be in bed."

"Hilda has some oysters for us."

"Fine--I'm starved."

She looked at him, meditatively, "I don't see how you can be."

"Why not?"

"Oh, on such a night as this, Daddy? Food seems superfluous."

He sat down, smiling. "Don't ever expect to feed any man over forty on
star-dust. Hilda knows better, don't you, Hilda?"

Hilda was bringing in the tray. There was a copper chafin