With animation Rowena began discussing books, and half an hour slipped by before her visitor attempted to make a move. He would not stay to tea. As he stood up, he looked down at Rowena with some softness in his grey eyes. "You don't want to be bucked up," he said, "for you are the essence of cheerfulness. When I have my bad bouts of pain, I think of the thousands of paralysed bedridden young men who have had their health and strength taken from them with one fell swoop in the war, and feel an old crock like myself has no right to grouse. I have done my work, and am wanted by no one!" "You are wanted by your child!" said Rowena firmly. He gave a short laugh. "What a pertinacious woman you are! Are you bored by visitors? May I walk over again, and bring you the books you want?" "Yes, certainly. I shall be delighted. And then you can give me your impressions of Mysie!" He departed, but Rowena gave a little sigh as she looked after him and noted the tired bend of his shoulders, and his rather uncertain steps. "Poor lonely unhappy man!" she murmured. "Why, Shags, you and I must try to bring some zest for living into his soul. I rather fancy Mysie will have a say in that." Shags cocked one ear and looked wise. He had already had some experience of Mysie. She had certainly contributed towards his pleasure, for she and he invariably had a romp together when she came over. Two or three days passed. Then one morning Mysie arrived over on her pony. She threw herself upon Rowena in her usual impulsive fashion. "Haven't you longed to see me! It's been such an exciting time! And I heard Dad say he was coming to see you this afternoon, so I thought I would get over first." "Now sit up and tell me all about it from the very beginning," demanded Rowena. "The beginning," said Mysie importantly, "was when Nan came back from the house and said I was to go up and see Dad in the morning. Of course I'd seen him lots of times before that, but I took care that he shouldn't see me. I wanted to find out if I'd like him for a father. I saw him with his gun, he shot two pigeons, and I clapped my hands once. I was behind a tree, and he looked round quickly, but he didn't see me. When Nan wanted to dress me up, I said, No—I would go in my kilt. I hate girls' frocks, and so I ran straight away from her, and walked into the house by myself. And fancy! It was eleven o'clock, and Dad was eating his breakfast!" "And what did you say?" "I said, 'Good morning, Dad; may I have some of your bacon?' and I sat down and he laughed, and gave me a big plateful, and told them to bring me a cup of coffee. And then he said:"