nce. "What else did she
say?"

"Nothing."

"You're fibbing. Tell me the truth, Eve."

She yielded to his masterfulness.

"Well, she said--'I wanted it to be Pip.'"

"Good old Win, I'll send her a bunch of roses." He wandered restlessly
about the room, then came back to her. "Why, Eve, I planned the
house--our house. It was to have the sea in front of it and a forest
behind it, and your room was to have a wide window and a balcony, and
under the balcony there was to be a rose garden."

"How sure you were of me, Pip."

"I have never been sure. But what I want, I--get. Remember that, dear
girl. When I shut my eyes I can see you at the head of my table, in a
high gold chair--like a throne."

She stared at him in amazement. "Pip, it doesn't sound a bit like you."

"No. What a man thinks is apt to be--different. On the surface I'm a
rather practical sort of fellow. But when I plan my future with you I am
playing king to your queen, and I'm not half bad at it."

And now it was she who was restless. "If I married you, what would I get
out of it but--money?"

"Thank you."

"You know I don't mean it that way. But I like to think that I can help
Richard--in his career."

"You're not made of that kind of stuff. You want your own good time.
Women who help men to achieve must be content to lose their looks and
their figures and to do without pretty clothes, and you wouldn't be
content. You want to live your own life, and be admired and petted and
envied, Eve."

She faced him, blazing. "You and Aunt Maude and Win are all alike. You
think I can't be happy unless I live in the lap of luxury. Well, I can
tell you this, I'd rather have a crust of bread with Richard than live in
a palace with you, Pip."

He stood up. "You don't mean it. But you needn't have put it quite that
way, and some day you'll be sorry, and you'll tell me that you're sorry.
Tell me now, Eve."

He put his hands on her shoulders, holding her with a masterful grip. Her
eyes met his and fell. "Oh, I hate your--sureness."

"Some day you are going to love it. Look at me, Eve."

She forced herself to do so. But she was not at ease. Then almost
wistfully she yielded. "I--am sorry, Pip."

His hands dropped from her shoulders. "Good little girl."

He kissed both of her hands before he went away. "I am glad we are
friends"--that was his way of putting it--"and you mustn't forget that
some day we are going to be more than that," and when he had gone sh