Waldron passed 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."