“That’s what you would have said about the exercise, two months ago.  And now look, how it’s helped you!  And then, Mr. Queed—­are you happy?”

Surprised and a little amused, he replied:  “Really, I’ve never stopped to think.  I should say, though, that I was perfectly content.”

Fifi laughed and coughed.  “There’s a big difference—­isn’t there?  Why, it’s just like the exercise, Mr. Queed.  Before you began it you were just not sick; now you are very well.  That’s the difference between content and happiness.  Now I,” she ran on, “am very, very happy.  I wake up in the mornings so glad that I’m alive that sometimes I can hardly bear it, and all through the day it’s like something singing away inside of me!  Are you like that?”

No, Mr. Queed must confess that he was not like that.  Indeed, few looking at his face at this moment would ever have suspected him of it.  Fifi regarded him with a kind of wistful sadness, but he missed the glance, being engaged in consulting his great watch; after which he sprang noisily to his feet, horrified at himself.

“Good heavens—­it’s ten minutes past five!  I must go immediately.  Why, I’m twenty-five minutes behind My Schedule!”

Fifi smiled through her wistfulness.  “Don’t ask me to be sorry, Mr. Queed, because I don’t think I can.  You see, I haven’t taken up a minute of your time for nearly a month, so I was entitled to some of it to-day.”

You see!  Hadn’t he figured it exactly right from the beginning?  Once give a human being a moment of your time, as a special and extraordinary kindness, and before you can turn around there that being is claiming it wholesale as a matter-of-course right!

“It was so sweet of you to send me these flowers, and then to come and see me, too....  Do you know, it’s been the very best day I’ve had since I’ve been sick, and you’ve made it so!”

“It’s all right.  Well, good-bye, Fifi.”

Fifi held out both her tiny hands, and he received them because, in the sudden emergency, he could think of no way of avoiding them.

“You’ll remember what I said about friends, and men—­won’t you, Mr. Queed?  Remember it begins with liking people, liking everybody.  Then when you really like them you want to do things for them, and that is happiness.”

He looked surprised at this definition of happiness, and then:  “Oh—­I see.  That’s your religion, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s just common sense.”

“I’ll remember.  Well, Fifi, good-bye.”

“Good-bye—­and thank you for everything.”

Into her eyes had sprung a tenderness which he was far from understanding.  But he did not like the look of it in the least, and he extricated his hands from the gentle clasp with some abruptness.

From the safe distance of the door he looked back, and wondered why Fifi’s great eyes were fixed so solemnly on him.

“Well—­good-bye, again.  Hurry up and get well—­”