ain. I'm not equal to her. It's yoking an elephant to a zebra."

"I thought you liked Mrs. Damer," said Lucas.

Nap grimaced again. "She's all right in the hunting-field. Leave her in
her own sphere and I can appreciate her."

"Do you think you are capable of appreciating any woman?" asked Lucas
unexpectedly.

Nap threw him a single fiery glance that was like a sword-thrust. His
slight figure stiffened to arrogance. But his answer, when it came,
was peculiarly soft and deliberate--it was also absolutely and
imperiously final.

"I guess so."

Lucas said no more, but he did not look wholly satisfied. There were
times in his dealings with Nap when even his tolerance would carry him
no further.

They spent a considerable time on the terrace in front of the house. It
was a sheltered spot, and the sunshine that day was generous.

"This place is doing you good," Nap remarked presently. "You are
considerably stronger than you were."

"I believe I am," Lucas answered. "I sleep better."

He had just seated himself on a stone bench that overlooked the lake.
His eyes followed the darting figures of the skaters with a certain
intentness.

Nap leaned upon the balustrade and watched him. "Why don't you see Capper
again?" he asked suddenly.

The millionaire's gaze gradually lost its intentness and grew remote. "I
am afraid he is on the wrong side of the Atlantic," he said.

"You can cable to him."

"Yes, I know." Slowly Lucas raised his eyes to his brother's face. "I can
have him over to tell me what he told me before--that I haven't the
recuperative strength essential to make his double operation a success."

"He may tell you something different this time." Nap spoke insistently,
with the energy of one not accustomed to accept defeat.

Lucas was silent.

"Say, Lucas"--there was more than insistence in his tone this time; it
held compulsion--"you aren't faint-hearted?"

The blue eyes began to smile. "I think not, Boney. But I've got to hang
on for the present--till you and the boy are married. P'r'aps then--I'll
take the risk."

Nap looked supercilious. "And if it is not my intention to marry?"

"You must marry, my dear fellow. You'll never be satisfied otherwise."

"You think marriage the hall-mark of respectability?" Nap sneered openly.

"I think," Lucas answered quietly, "that for you marriage is the
only end. The love of a good woman would be your salvation. Yes, you
may scoff. But--whether you admit it