Danny's little arms tightened around her neck.

"It's her," he shouted. "It's her."

When Mrs. Burton Francis went up to her sitting-room, a
few hours later to get the "satchel" powder to put in
the box that was to be tied with the store string, the
sun was shining on the face of the Madonna on the wall,
and it seemed to smile at her as she passed.

The little red book lay on the table forgotten. She tossed
it into the waste-paper basket.



CHAPTER II
THE OLD DOCTOR

Close beside Mrs. Francis's comfortable home stood another
large house, weather-beaten and dreary looking, a house
whose dilapidated verandas and broken fence clearly
indicated that its good days had gone by. In the summer-
time vines and flowers grew around it to hide its scars
and relieve its grimness, pathetic as a brave smile on
a sad face.

Dr. Barner, brilliant, witty and skilful, had for many
years been a victim of intemperance, but being Scotch to
the backbone, he never could see how good, pure