e was poor and because
his father had won in a contested election in which the two older men
were candidates for the same office.

It did not take long to think all this. Then he said, looking again at
the young man with a businesslike look:

"Supposing you had my permission, what are your prospects for
supporting my daughter? She has always had everything she wanted.
What could you give her?"

The question might have seemed cold and businesslike. The tone was
thoughtful and serious.

A light flashed into James' eyes, but he said simply: "I am in a
position to make a thousand dollars a year next spring. I earn
something extra with my pen at home."

Mr. Hardy did not reply to this. He said: "Do you know what a wilful,
quick-tempered girl Clara is?"

"I have known her from a little child, Mr. Hardy. I feel as if I know
her about as well as you do."

"Perhaps you know her better than I do; I do not know my child as I
should."

The tone was not bitter but intensely sad. The young man had, of
course, been greatly wondering at this talk from Mr. Hardy, and had
observed the change in his manner and his speech. He looked at him now
and noted his pale, almost haggard face and his extremely thoughtful
appearance.

"Mr. Hardy," said James frankly, "you are in trouble. I wish I could"--

"Thank you; no, you can't help me in this--except," continued Mr. Hardy
with a faint smile, "except you solve this trouble between you and my
daughter."

"There is no trouble between us, sir," replied James simply. "You know
I love her and have loved her for a long time, and I believe I am able
to support her and make her happy. Won't you give your consent, sir?
We are not children. We know our minds."

James spoke very earnestly. He was beginning to hope that the stern,
proud man who had so curtly dismissed him a little while before would
in some unaccountable manner relent and give him his heart's desire.

Mr. Hardy walked along in silence a little way. Then he said almost
abruptly:

"James, do you drink?"

"No, sir!"

"Or gamble?"

"You forget my mother, Mr. Hardy." The reply was almost stern.

Mrs. Caxton's younger brother had been ruined by gambling. He had come
to the house one night, and in a fit of anger because his sister would
not give him money to carry on his speculations, he had threatened her
life. James had interposed, and at the risk of his own life had
probably saved his mother's. Mrs. Ca