"I thought you might come, not so much to see the sunsets as in the hope
of seeing me. I promised to help you when I could. I thought you might
be interested to know that I had kept my promise. If any one can help
your father it is Dr. Johnston." He gave the letter to her as he spoke.
"He is coming to Ravenel to-morrow."

In an instant her face softened; her eyes became suffused by a soft,
warm light, and she looked up at him through a sudden mist of tears.

"The interview must be arranged," he went on. But Katrine interrupted
him:

"Ah! It will be easy enough. Father is as anxious as I am to be himself
again. You do not know daddy, Mr. Ravenel," she explained, a proud
loyalty in her tone. "He has not been himself before you; but in Paris,
in Dublin, he was welcomed everywhere; his wit was the keenest, with
never an edge that hurt; his stories the brightest, and always of the
kind that made you love the people of whom they were told. He will be
home to-night. Will the doctor come here? I want to tell him
_everything_, and then, when he has seen father, you can tell me what to
do. You see, I haven't thanked you yet," she said, abruptly.

"To know that you are pleased is enough. Besides, I have, on some few
occasions, drifted into doing a kind act for the act's sake," he said;
adding: "Not often, it's true, but occasionally."

"You have made me, oh, so happy, and hopeful--as I have never been
before in all my life. It seems like one of the fairy stories in which
one's wishes all come true."