An hour later, when the door had finally closed on his last patient, Dr. North sat still in his chair, apparently lost in thought. His dinner was waiting, he knew, and a round of visits must be made immediately thereafter, yet he did not stir. He was thinking, curiously enough, of the time when his daughter Elizabeth was a baby. What a round, pink little face she had, to be sure, and what a strong, healthy, plump little body. He could almost hear the unsteady feet toddling across the breadth of dingy oilcloth which carpeted his office floor. "Daddy, daddy!" her sweet, imperious voice was crying, "I'm tomin' to see you, daddy!" His eyes were wet when he finally stumbled to his feet. Then suddenly he felt a pair of warm arms about his neck, and a dozen butterfly kisses dropped on his cheeks, his hair, his forehead. "Daddy, dear, he came; didn't he? I saw him go away. I hope you weren't--cruel to him, oh, daddy!" "No, daughter; I wasn't exactly cruel to him. But didn't the young man stop to talk it over with you?" "No, daddy; I thought he would of course; but he just waved his hand for good-bye, and I--was frightened for fear----" "Didn't stop to talk it over--eh? Say, I like that! To tell you the truth, Bess, I--rather like him. Good, clear, steady eyes; good all 'round constitution, I should say; and if--Oh, come, come, child; we'd better be getting in to dinner or your mother will be anxious. But I want you to understand, miss, that your old daddy has no notion of playing second fiddle to any youngster's first, however tall and good-looking he may be." And singularly enough, Elizabeth appeared to be perfectly satisfied with this paternal dictum. "I knew you'd like him," she said, slipping her small hand into her father's big one, in the little girl fashion she had never lost. "Why, daddy, he's the best man I ever knew--except you, of course. He told me"--the girl's voice dropped to an awed whisper--"that he promised his mother when she was dying that he would never do a mean or dishonest thing. And--and he says, daddy, that whenever he has been tempted to do wrong he has felt his mother's eyes looking at him, so that he couldn't. Anybody would know he was good just from seeing him." "Hum! Well, well, that may be so. I'll talk to Collins and see what he has to say. Collins is a man of very good judgment; I value his opinion highly." "Don't you value mine, daddy?" asked Elizabeth, with an irresistible dimple appearing and disappearing at the corner of her mouth. "On some subjects, my dear," replied the doctor soberly; "but--er--on this particular one I fancy you may be slightly prejudiced." CHAPTER III