"Why, my dear little girl, do you think I was hard on the old bird? Not a bit of it. He told you the truth--he would have died except for me. I have simply goaded him into strength. He lives to spite me. And I not only brace him up physically, I am helping his soul." The doctor said this complacently, and was greeted by derisive laughter. "Fact, for all you may laugh. Twice since I have had him he has extended mortgages. First time he ever did such a thing in his life. His lawyers think he is in his dotage. The trouble with him is that he never caught the connection between religion and business--he practised them both, separately, and consistently. But when it came to religion he never used his brains--he gave to everything the minister advised, whether it was sensible or not, just because the minister advised it--and he sat around and prayed to any old mutt of a preacher, just because he was a reverend. No business sense about it. And then when it came to business, he did not let his religion interfere. I am the connecting link between his religion and his business--and I expect to make a man of him. I think in time I shall work out his soul's salvation. Quite seriously, I believe I would have made a cracking good minister." Then he took them back to the hospital and up to their father's room. Doris stepped quickly to the bedside. "Doris? Is it my little girl?" "Yes, you dear father, Doris and Rosalie are here." They sat beside the bed, one on either side, and stroked his hands tenderly, glad tears streaming down their faces. After a time, when he thought he could control his voice, he said: "Girls, I am sorry--but I am quite blind. I can hear you, but I see nothing." "Oh, dearest," cried Doris brokenly, "of course you can't. Your eyes are bandaged. You are not supposed to see yet. You must wait. The operation was a perfect success." "Why, my dear old fellow," said the doctor in an annoyed tone, "do you think I am a miracle man? You are not supposed to step right out of the ether into the broad light. You are a dandy, sure enough. Aren't these preachers the limit? Growling because he can't see when he is plastered up in ten inches of cotton." The minister laughed, softly, happily. "It was foolish. I see it now, of course. But it gave me a terrible jar. I was sure I was blind." So while the girls sat beside him the doctor and MacCammon went away to leave them alone for a while. "The real tug will come when he gets home," said the doctor. "He has no business to use his eyes for at least six months. He ought to play for fully half a year. But he does not know how to play. That is the worst of these preachers--they get so used to the grind, grind, grind, that they can't let up. What we'll do with him for the next six months is more than I can figure out." "The girls will think of something. They are wonderful girls." "Yes, very. Rosalie in particular," said the doctor.