hing of the
child, she understands it that way. I felt that when she came to see her
mother, and went to her funeral. Now then, Nancy's coming to see me
to-day. Remember she's sixteen. She's got to learn from me the
settlement Leslie's made on her. She's got to learn further that she
isn't likely to ever see her stepfather. She knows I'm his business man.
She knows I'm his friend. Well, when she's financially independent, do
you think she'll feel like rushing into our arms, here, for a home,
feeling the way I believe she does about her parent? It's going to be
difficult, and--damned unpleasant. And for all I'm ready to help Leslie
anyway I know, I'd rather see anybody on his behalf than that kiddie,
with her wide, honest, angry eyes and red hair. I'm not going to press
our home on her, Sally, because, sooner or later, if she accepted it,
which I don't believe she would, she'd have to learn things of Leslie,
and--well, the affairs you know about. That must not be. She's not going
to learn these things from us. I'm going to do the best I know for the
child, and when it comes to the matter of a home she must choose for
herself. There's always her mother's folk, or even James McDonald's
folk--"

"God forbid! No. Oh, no." The woman's instant denial was horrified. "Not
the McDonald lot. They're all revolutionaries. All of them. It's--it's
unthinkable. It certainly is."

The man moved away.

"That's so," he agreed. "Well, anyway, I'll do the best I know for the
child, Sally. You can trust me."

The woman's anxiety abated, and she rose from her chair.

"I know that, Charles," she said. "But the McDonalds! They're--"

"Sure they are." The man laughed. "Well, good-bye, my dear. I'll tell
you all about it when I've fixed things. Thank goodness it's quit
snowing and the sun's shining again. I wish I felt as good as it looks
outside here."

* * * * *

Charles Nisson had become a lawyer without any marked inclination or
enthusiasm for his profession. It had been simply a matter of following
the father before him. It would have been much the same if his father
had been a farmer, or a politician, or anything else. The son was
patient, temperate, and of no great ambition. But he was also keenly
intelligent. Without impulse, or striking originality, but with a
tremendous capacity for hard work, he was bound to be moderately
successful in any career. In his father's profession his temperament was