tered. Mr. Cord had seen Eddie Verriman the night before at the
ball, and had thought him a very fine figure of a man, so now, putting
two and two together, he said to himself, "Is he here to ask my
blessing?"

Aloud he said nothing, but just nodded; it was a belief that had
translated itself into a habit--to let the other man explain first.

"I know I'm interrupting you, Mr. Cord," Verriman began. Mr. Cord made
a lateral gesture with his hand, as if all he had were at the disposal
of his friends, even his most precious asset--time.

"It's something very important," Eddie went on. "I'm worried. I
haven't slept. Mr. Cord, have you checked up Crystal's economic
beliefs lately?"

"Lately?" said Mr. Cord. "I don't know that I ever have. Have a
cigar?"

Eddie waved the cigar aside as if his host had offered it to him in
the midst of a funeral service.

"Well, I have," he said, as if some one had to do a parent's duty,
"and I've been very much distressed--shocked. I had a long talk with
her about it at the dance last night."

"About economics?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why, Eddie, don't I seem to remember your telling me you were in love
with Crystal?"

"Yes, Mr. Cord, I am."

"Then what do you want to talk economics for? Or is it done like that
nowadays?"

"I don't want to," answered Eddie, almost in a wail. "_She_ does. She
gets me going and then we quarrel because she has terrible opinions.
She talks wildly. I have to point out to her that she's wrong. And
last night she told me"--Eddie glanced about to be sure he was not
overheard--"she told me that she was a socialist."

Mr. Cord had just lit the very cigar which Eddie had waved away, and
he took the first critical puffs at it before he answered:

"Did you ask her what that was?"

"No--no--I didn't."

"Missed a trick there, Eddie."

It was impossible to accuse so masklike a magnate of frivolity, but
Eddie was often dissatisfied with Mr. Cord's reactions to the serious
problems of life.

"But don't you think it's terrible," he went on, eagerly, "for Crystal
to be a socialist? In this age of the world--civilization trembling on
the brink--chaos"--Eddie made a gesture toward the perfectly ordered
shelves containing _Poor's Manual_--"staring us in the face? You say
that the half-baked opinions of an immature girl make no difference?"

"No, I shouldn't say that--at least not to Crystal," murmured her
father.

"But the mere fact that she picks up such ideas