suddenly. "How many children have you,
Clark?" he asked, gently.

"Eight," said the old clerk. "But I haven't one I could spare, Mr.
Livingstone."

"Only for a little while, Clark?" urged the other; "only for a little
while.--Wait, and let me tell you what I want with her and why I want
her, and you will--For a little while?" he pleaded.

He started and told his story and Clark sat and listened, at first with
a set face, then with a wondering face, and then with a face deeply
moved, as Livingstone, under his warming sympathy, opened his heart to
him as a dying man might to his last confessor.

"--And now will you lend her to me, Clark, for just a little while
to-night and to-morrow?" he pleaded in conclusion.

Clark rose to his feet. "I will see what I can do with her, Mr.
Livingstone," he said, gravely. "She is not very friendly to you, I am
sorry to say--I don't know why."

Livingstone thought he knew.

"Of course, you would not want me to compel her to go with you?"

"Of course not," said Livingstone.

CHAPTER XI

The father went out by the door that opened into the passage, and the
next moment Livingstone could hear him in deep conference in the
adjoining room; at first with his wife, and then with the little girl
herself.

The door did not fit very closely and the partition was thin, so that
Livingstone could not help hearing what was said, and even when he could
shut out the words he could not help knowing from the tones what was
going on.

The mother was readily won over, but when the little girl was consulted
she flatly refused. Her father undertook to coax her.

To Livingstone's surprise the argument he used was not that Livingstone
was rich, but that he was so poor and lonely; not well off and happy
like him, with a house full of little children to love him and make him
happy and give him a merry Christmas.

The point of view was new to Livingstone--at least, it was recent; but
he recognized its force and listened hopefully. The child's reply dashed
his hopes.

"But, papa, I hate him so--I just _hate_ him!" she declared, earnestly.
"I'm _glad_ he hasn't any little children to love him. When he wouldn't
let you come home to us this evening, I just prayed so hard to God not
to let him have any home and not to let him have any Christmas--not
_ever!_"

The eager little voice had risen in the child's earnestness and it
pierced through the door and struck Livingstone like an arrow. Ther