"Well, you see, I have no outside little friends, and so my friends live inside me. I make new ones now and then, when the old ones get dull, but I like the old ones best myself."

At that moment a step sounded on the stairs; the child's face lit up with a look which made her beautiful.

"That's father!" she exclaimed, and starting up, hastened as fast as her crutch would permit to the door.

Waldron stooped to kiss tenderly the sweet, welcoming face held up to his, then he grasped Dr. Norman's hand.

"So, doctor, you are true," he said with feeling. "You do not promise and forget."

"I am the slower to promise," returned Dr. Norman. "I have just been making acquaintance with your little maid."

"My little Sophy!"

"Yes, father?"

Waldron pa.s.sed a caressing hand over the child's head.

"We two want to talk, dear, so you must go into your own little room."

"Yes, father; but I will bid goodbye to this doctor first," she said, with a quaint air, offering Dr. Norman a thin little hand.

As the door closed upon her Waldron remarked rather bitterly, "You see I told the truth."

"My dear fellow," cried the doctor, "I did not doubt you for a moment! I came this afternoon to tell you I have seen your father--he sent for me.

He is not well. He seems troubled more than his illness warrants. Can it be that under that callous manner he hides regret for the past?"

Philip sighed.

"You must be ever present to his memory," went on the doctor. "It might be possible to touch his feelings."

"How?"

"Through your child--nay, hear me out. No harm shall come to her; I would not propose it did I believe such a thing possible."

"But it might mean separation. No, doctor, let us struggle along--she at least is happy."

"For the present, yes, but for how long? She will not always remain a child. Have you had a good medical opinion in regard to her lameness?"

"The best I could afford at the time."

"And----?"

"It was unfavourable to trying any remedy; but that was not long after her mother's death."

"May I examine her?"

Waldron's glad eagerness was eloquent of thanks.

When Dr. Norman left those upper rooms there was a light long absent on Philip's face as he drew his lame child within his arms.

[Sidenote: Sophy takes a Drive]

In a few days the doctor called again at Dalmatian Buildings, and carried Sophy off in his carriage, the child all excitement at the change and novelty.

After a short drive Dr. Norman said, "Now, Sophy, I have a rather serious case on hand, and I am going to leave you for a little at a friend's, and call for you again later. You won't mind?"

"I think not. I shall be better able to tell you after I have been."

The doctor laughed.

"You see," went on Sophy, with a wise nod of her little head, "you can't tell how you will like things until you try them--now, can you?"

"No, certainly not. So you can tell me how you get on as I drive you home."

"Is this your serious case or mine?" asked Sophy anxiously, as the carriage drew up at a large house in a West-End square.

"This is where I hope to leave you," returned the doctor, smiling. "But you must wait until I find if it be convenient for me to do so."

Dr. Norman was shown into the library, where by the fire in an arm-chair sat an old man, one foot supported on a stool before him. His face was drawn and pinched, and his temper none of the sweetest, to judge by the curt response he made to the doctor's greeting.

"You are late this morning," was his sole remark.

"I may be slightly--but you are fast becoming independent of my care."

An unamiable grunt was the old man's reply.

When a few medical questions had been put and answered, Dr. Norman placed himself on the hearthrug, looking down at his patient as he drew on his gloves.

"You are much better," he said cheerfully.

"Oh, you think so, do you? Well, I don't."

"Yes, I think so. I should like to prescribe you change of scene, Mr.

Waldron."

"Want to be rid of me, I suppose. Well, I'm not going!"

"Change of thought might do equally well."

"I'm likely to get it, chained here by the leg, ain't I?"

"Well, change of thought comes by a.s.sociation, and is quite available; in fact, at the present moment I have in my carriage a small person who has given me much change of thought this morning."

"I can't see what good your change of thought will do me!" growled Mr.

Waldron.

Dr. Norman regarded him speculatively.

"I wonder if you would do me a favour. I have rather a serious case on the other side of the square, will take me about half an hour; might I leave my small friend here for that time?"