“You can turn the gas out, grandpa,” Caro said, as after leading the way into her room, she merrily kicked off the red slippers and bounded into the middle of the bed.
From the door Jane saw the president laughing as he stooped to kiss the saucy face.
Caro snuggled down beneath the cover and when the gas was turned out, from the dressing table came the clear, soft light of the candle.
“It is my little candle-star, grandpa, and I don’t mind the dark now, ’cause I can see it, and it is soft and nice.”
“You are a funny child, Caro,” her grandfather said, stroking her hair. “Suppose you try to be a little candle yourself.”
“Why how could I?” Caro sat up much interested.
“We’ll talk about it to-morrow; they are waiting for me in the study, I must go.”
“Well I think I’ll be a pink one,” remarked Caro meditatively, and Dr. Barrows went down stairs with a smile on his lips.