s position. "Lulu Tulu" indeed!
Imagine the smile that would have illumined the faces at the club on
such an announcement. The impudence of the boy to have suggested it to
him--him who had so often held forth upon the value of conservatism in
business! And he remembered with pride the speaker who had once said,
"It is such solid vertebrae as Mr. Houghton that form the backbone of
our business world." That speaker had been Bender, of the New York
Dynamo Company. Poor Bender! The Western Electric Construction had got
him after all.

This line of thought caused Houghton to reach in his pocket and produce
a letter. He went over the significant part again.

"Our Mr. Byrnes reports the clinching of the subway vending-machine
contract," it read, "and this, together with our other business, will
give us over half of the New York trade. With this statement before us,
we feel that we can make a winning fight if you still refuse to consider
our terms. In view of recent developments, we cannot repeat our former
offer but if you will consider sixty-seven as a figure----"

Sixty-seven! And a year before he would not have taken one hundred and
ten! In the bitterness of the moment, he wondered if he, too, would
finally go the way that Bender had.

And then, as the butler swung the door back, he was recalled to the
matter of Tom Brainard by the sight of a familiar figure that floated
toward him as airily as had its astral self that afternoon.

He kissed her and went to his study. Just before dinner was not a time
to discuss such things. But later, as he looked across the candelabra at
his daughter, all smiles and happiness in that seat that had been her
mother's, he regretted that he had not, for----

"Daddy," Dorothy was saying, "I got such a funny note from Tom this
afternoon. He says there has been a change at the office and that you
will explain."

"Yes."

"Well----?" She paused eagerly. "It's something awfully good--I know."

Her father frowned and caught her eye. "Later," he said significantly.

The girl read the tone, and the gaiety of the moment before was gone.
After that they ate in silence.

One cigar--two cigars had been smoked when she stole into the library.
Since coffee (whether from design or chance he never knew), she had
rearranged her hair. Now it was low on her neck in a fashion of long
ago, with a single curl that strayed over a white shoulder to her bosom.
She knelt at his side without a word.

He lo