so want to help you"--his whole heart was going out
to her in her distress.

"I know you feel sorry for me." She withdrew
her hand gently so as not to hurt him; she too did not
want to be misunderstood--having sent for him. "I
know how sincere your friendship is for me, but
put all that aside. Don't let your sympathy for me
cloud your judgment. What shall I do with Lucy?
Answer me as if you were her father and mine,"
and she looked straight into his eyes.

The doctor tightened the muscles of his throat,
closed his teeth, and summoned all his resolution.
If he could only tell her what was in his heart how
much easier it would all be! For some moments he
sat perfectly still, then he answered slowly--as her
man of business would have done:

"I should let her go."

"Why do you say so?"

"Because she will find out in that way sooner
than in any other how to appreciate you and her
home. Living in two rooms and studying music
will not suit Lucy. When the novelty wears off she
will long for her home, and when she comes back it
will be with a better appreciation of its comforts.
Let her go, and make her going as happy as you can."