y wasn't the thing, in their set, to bother about children.
So he did not get much help from his friends in the difficult situation
in which Max had placed him. She stood by her determination to leave the
child to him, with irritating completeness. She even refused to give
advice or help.

Of course, he could leave well enough alone, let Miss Wilder blunder
along with her somehow. That was evidently the way the rest of them did.
He had almost decided upon this course, when he met Isabelle, standing
on the pony's bare back, making him run, while poor Miss Wilder panted
behind, protesting at every step.

It brought him to a resolution. The kid ought to have a younger woman to
look after her, one who could swim and ride and take some interest in
her sports. If she was going to leap head first into every danger, she
needed a girl to stand by, and leap in after her, if necessary.

It took him several days to get up his nerve to dismiss Miss Wilder, but
in the end, she met him half way. She said she could not stand the
strain, that she had aged ten years in the two months she had been in
charge of his daughter.

"She is a very remarkable child, Mr. Bryce, and she needs very special
treatment."

"I suppose that is it. I will give you a month's extra salary, Miss
Wilder, so you may take a rest. I know you need it."

The next morning he bustled into Mrs. Bryce's room, where she was taking
her breakfast in bed.

"Mercy, Wally, are you sick?" she inquired; "it's barely nine o'clock."

"I've got to go to town."

"Town, this hot day?"

"Yes. I fired old Wilder and I've got to get a new victim for our
offspring. Where do you get 'em?"

"Poor Wally," laughed his wife. "I advertise, or go to teachers'
agencies, or any old way. Telephone in, and they'll send you something."

"No; I'm going to get a young one."

"And pretty, I suppose."

"Don't be an idiot."

He turned as the door opened and Isabelle came in. She was booted and
hatted.

"Good morning, Max," she said, sweetly.

"Morning. Where are you going?"

"To town, with Wally."

"What?"

"Well, I thought I'd better take her. She has to live with 'em, you
know, and she has ideas on the subject."

Mrs. Bryce laughed aloud.

"You two!" she exclaimed.

"Come on, Wally," urged Isabelle, taking her father by the hand.

"Which car are you using?" inquired Max.

"She prefers the train," he explained.

This brought another outburst of mirth.

"My word, Wa