ove his electric home that noon, he found his daughter
waiting for him. She stood on the front porch, with a small valise
beside her. She was dressed in white and her youthful skin, fresh lips,
glowing eyes and heightened color made her seem younger than the woman
of forty that she was. Her father saw in her face the burning purpose to
serve which had come to indicate her moments of decision. The Doctor had
grown used to that look of decision and he knew that it was in some way
related to South Harvey and the strike. For during her years of work in
the Valley, its interests had grown to dominate her life. But the Valley
and its interests had unfolded her soul to its widest reach, to its
profoundest depths. And in her features were blazoned, at times, all the
love and joy and strength that her life had gathered. These were the
times when she wore what her father called "the Valley look." She had
"the Valley look" in her face that day when she stood waiting for her
father with the valise beside her--a beautiful woman.

"Father--now don't stop me, dear. I'm going to Grant. Mother will be
home in a few days. I've told Lila to stay with Martha Morton when you
are not here. It's always secure and tranquil up here, you know. But I'm
going down in the Valley. I'm going to the strike."

"Going to the strike?" repeated her father.

"Yes," she answered, turning her earnest eyes upon him as she spoke.
"It's the first duty I have on earth--to be with my people in this
crisis. All these years they have borne me up; have renewed my faith;
they have given me courage. Now is my turn, father. Where they go, I go
also." She smiled gently and added, "I'm going to Grant."

She took her father's hands. "Father--Oh, my good friend--you understand
me--Grant and me?--don't you? Every man in the crisis of his life needs
a woman. I've been reading about Grant in the papers. I can see what
really has happened. But he doesn't understand how what they say
happens, for the next few days or weeks or months, while this strike is
on, is of vastly more importance than what really happens. He lacks
perspective on himself. A woman, if she is a worthy friend--gives that
to a man. I'm going to Grant--to my good friend, father, and stand with
him--very close, and very true, I hope!"

Trouble moved over the Doctor's face in a cloud. "I don't know about
Grant, Laura," he said. "All this Messiah and Prince of Peace
tomfoolery--and--"

"Why, you know it nev