a moment. When I come back from the packing house
will be time enough. I just want to give a glance to those last
shipments."

"All right, lad," agreed Grimm. "Any time."

He looked fondly after the dapper figure.

"Isn't he a splendid, handsome, hustling young chap, Katje?" he
demanded. "If only his mother had lived to see him now, wouldn't she
have been proud of him? And what a complete little family we three
make!"

"We three?" hesitated the girl.

"Surely. That's all there are of us--at present,--isn't it? I don't
think I have made a miscount."

"You don't count in James!"

"James?" he queried sharply. "Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?" she retorted eagerly. "Oom Peter, if you don't
mind my saying so, I think you're just a little unfair to James. He used
to have dinner with us nearly every day. Can't you make him a little
more at home--more like one of the family?"

"Why, you good, unselfish little girl!" applauded Grimm. "You think of
everybody. James is----"

Hartmann came in with several newly typed letters to be signed, and
Grimm turned to meet him with something akin to cordiality.

"James," said he, "will you have dinner with us to-day?"

"Why, yes," answered Hartmann, in pleased surprise. "Certainly. Thank
you very much. Will you glance over these and sign them?" he added,
wondering at the grateful smile Kathrien flashed at Peter as she passed
into the dining-room and left the two men alone together.

Grimm, too, wondered a little at the warmth of the girl's smile.

"She has bloomed out lately like a rose," he mused as he looked over the
letters the secretary proffered him.

"Yes, sir!" involuntarily agreed Hartmann.

"So you've noticed it, too?"

"Yes, sir," replied Hartmann stiffly as he recovered his self-control.

"_Ach!_" murmured Grimm, as he signed letter after letter and passed
them over to Hartmann for sealing. "What a grip she has taken on my
heart! A good girl, James. A good little girl. And I've sheltered her,
ever since she came to me, as I shelter my violets from the cold. That's
as it should be, hey?"

"Y-e-s,--in a way."

"What's that?" bristled Grimm, looking up at the unexpected answer to
the question that had seemed to him to require none. "What do you mean?
Oh, speak out, man!" as the secretary hesitated. "Never be afraid to
express an honest opinion."

"I mean just this. No one can shape any one else's life. All people
should be made to understand that they