my money even before that. I didn't stop you to ask
your advice, Justin, for I can see you'd feel a little delicate about
urging me to invest in your company. But what I've heard from Mis'
Hornblower makes it plain enough that the best thing for me to do is to
turn my property into cash as fast as I can and put every penny into
apples."

Justin crossed his feet, reflecting impatiently that it was high time
for Persis Dale to have a husband. His elation over all that was
implied by her consulting him on so personal a matter, was almost lost
in his feeling of annoyance. This made it plain that he must lose no
time, but marry her offhand. What with her penchant for orphans and
for foolish investments, she would make ducks and drakes of her fortune
unless a man peremptorily took the helm.

"It would be a pity to be precipitate, Persis. An investment that pays
ten per cent. isn't to be sneezed at nowadays. And this fellow's offer
just now looks as if the stock wasn't in any danger of depreciating."

He glanced at her and was annoyed to find her face stubborn. Had she
been the type of woman to accept masculine counsel as akin to divine
guidance, his task would have been easier. Her evident lack of
yielding forced him to take a superior tone.

"My dear girl, you will admit that I am a little better versed in
business matters than you are. And my advice is to hold on to your
stock unless you should have a better reason for selling than appears
at present."

"Ten per cent. looks pretty well alongside the Savings bank, I'll
admit. But why shouldn't I get twenty-five? I've got these children
to educate. I can use considerable more than if I just had myself to
think of."

He gulped down his vexation, "Raising apples is a science, Persis. The
weakness of the American investor is to imagine that he can do whatever
any other fellow has done. Because some horticultural shark doubles
his money on his orchard in a banner year, you fancy you can do the
same every year."

"Gracious, Justin! I'm not going into apple-raising. I've got my
hands full enough without that. I'm going to leave the company to run
my orchard for me. All they ask is twenty-five per cent of the net
profits, but you know that without my telling you."

"And suppose there comes a year like 1896, when apples didn't bring
enough to pay for the barrels they were packed in? You can't count on
top-notch prices every season."

"No, but I can cou