"Good-bye, Fairy Godchild," answered Eloise, carelessly. Then something in the girl's face impelled her to put a strong arm around Barbara, and kiss her, very tenderly. The blue eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you for that," breathed Barbara, "more than for anything else."
Eloise went away humming to herself, but she stopped as soon as she was out of sight of the house. "The little thing," she thought; "the dear, brave little thing! A face like an angel, and that cross old woman, and that beautiful old man who sees with his soul. And all that exquisite work and the prices those brutal women paid her for it. Blind and lame, and nothing to be done."
Then another thought made her brown eyes very bright. "But I'm not so sure of that—we'll see."
A Request
She wrote many letters that afternoon, and all were for Barbara. The last and longest was to Doctor Conrad, begging him to come at the first possible moment and go with her to see a poor broken child who might be made well and strong and beautiful.
"And," the letter went on, "perhaps you could give her father back his eyesight. She calls me her Fairy Godmother, and I rely upon you to keep my proud position for me. Any way, Allan, dear, please come, won't you?"
Awaiting Results
She closed it with a few words which would have made him start for the Klondike that night, had there been a train, and she asked it of him; posted it, and hopefully awaited results.