She ceased to listen to his rambling talk, her eyes rested dreamily on the glowing back-log. After all didn't every woman want to marry and have a home of her own, and later perhaps--Twenty-four at Christmas! Almost an old maid! And to think Mr. Mac had gone on caring for her all these years, that he still wanted her when he had all those girls in his own world to choose from. Not many men were constant like that, she thought, as an old memory stabbed her. Then she was aware that her hand was held fast to a hot cheek, and that a pair of burning eyes were watching her. "Nance!" Mac whispered eagerly, "you're giving in! You're going with me!" A step in the hall made Nance scramble to her feet just before Mrs. Clarke came in from the dining-room. "I thought we should never get through dinner!" said that lady, with an impatient sigh. "The bishop can talk of nothing else but his new hobby, and do you know he's actually persuaded your father to give one of the tenements back of the cathedral for the free clinic!" Nance who was starting out with the tray, put it down suddenly. "How splendid!" she cried. "Which house is it?" "I don't know, I am sure. But they are going to put a lot of money into doing it over, and Dr. Adair has offered to take entire charge of it. For my part I think it is a great mistake. Just think what that money would mean to our poor mission out in Mukden! These shiftless people here at home have every chance to live decently. It's not our fault if they refuse to take advantage of their opportunities." "But they don't know how, Mrs. Clarke! If Dr. Adair could teach the mothers--" Mrs. Clarke lifted her hands in laughing protest. "My dear girl, don't you know that mothers can't be taught? The most ignorant mother alive has more instinctive knowledge of what is good for her child than any man that ever lived! Mac, dearest, why didn't you eat your grapes?" "Because I loathe grapes. Nance is going to work them off on an old sick man she knows." "Some one at the hospital?" Mrs. Clarke asked idly. "No," said Nance, "it's an old gentleman who lives down in the very place we're talking about. He's been sick for weeks. It's all right about the grapes?" "Why, of course. Take some oranges, too, and tell the gardener to give you some flowers. The dahlias are going to waste this year. Mac, you look tired!" He shook off her hand impatiently. "No, I'm not. I feel like a two-year old. Nance thinks perhaps she may go with us after all." "Of course she will!" said Mrs. Clarke, with a confident smile at the girl. "We are going to be so good to her that she will not have the heart to refuse." Mrs. Clarke with her talent for self-deception had almost convinced herself that Nance was a fairy princess who had languished in a nether world of obscurity until Mac's magic smile had restored her to her own.