ly at nine o'clock he passed through the living-room on his way
to the appointment, and paused for a word with Ocky, who was reading by
the lamp in the center of the room. She had checked him with a gesture.

"What does he want to see you about?"

"I don't know. Just a snappy laying down of the laws of the Medes and
the Persians, I expect."

"Well, don't quarrel with him!"

"You mean--he's my father, after all? Right. It takes two to make a
quarrel anyway."

"The most ridiculous aphorism ever coined! I've made lots of them
myself, single-handed. And it was policy, not filial respect, that
dictated my caution. If you quarrel, you'll lose your temper; if you
lose your temper, you may let something slip that will reveal your
plans."

"Yours is the sapience of the serpent! But what could he do if he did
know the truth? We're both of age."

"Just the same, it's a good generalship to avoid risks. I have learned
to leave little to chance."

"Aunt Ocky, will you come and live with us when we are really settled?
I've an idea I could profit a lot if I sat at your knees for a while!"

"I wish I could accept your invitation," Miss Ocky answered gravely.
Her eyes left his face and seemed to shield her thoughts behind a film
of blankness. "I'm afraid I have other--plans," she added quietly.
"It's after nine--don't get the habit of unpunctuality."

He knocked on the study door at the end of the room, and closed it
after him when he had entered in response to a gruff command.

For some little time Miss Ocky tried to center her thoughts on her
book, lifting her head to listen now and again as she paused in her
reading to cut pages with her two-edged souvenir of Teheran. The
conversation in the study appeared to be flowing along smoothly. She
could not catch any words, nor did she try to; a shrewd listener can
glean a good deal merely by interpreting the vocal tones of the
different speakers. Her ear told her that Simon was certainly laying
down the law but with no more than his usual acidity, and that his son
was pleading his cause patiently and without acrimony. It was natural
enough that he should hope up to the eleventh hour for a favorable
change in his father's attitude, a foolish hope but a pardonable one--

Abruptly, Miss Ocky's ear cocked itself to a more alert angle. The
voices in the study had suddenly altered. Simon had said something in
his usual dictatorial accents, and Copley, instead of the