ation was making him
incoherent--"She talks like Lord Somebody-or-other in an old-fashioned
novel or play or something. Those old fools were always rejecting
undesirable suitors and ordering their daughters to do this and that,
breaking their hearts, and so on. But that sort of thing doesn't go
nowadays. Young people have their own ideas."

"Um-hm, Al; so I've noticed."

"Yes, indeed they have. Now, if Madeline wants to marry me and I want to
marry her, who will stop us?"

The captain pulled at his beard.

"Why, nobody, Al, as I know of," he said; "provided you both keep on
wantin' to marry each other long enough."

"Keep on wanting long enough? What do you mean by that?"

"Why, nothin' much, perhaps; only gettin' married isn't all just goin'
to the parson. After the ceremony the rent begins and the grocers' bills
and the butchers' and the bakers' and a thousand or so more. Somebody's
got to pay 'em, and the money's got to come from somewhere. Your wages
here, Al, poetry counted in, ain't so very big yet. Better wait a spell
before you settle down to married life, hadn't you?"

"Well--well, I--I didn't say we were to be married right away,
Grandfather. She and I aren't unreasonable. I'm doing better and better
with my writings. Some day I'll make enough, and more. Why not?"

There was enough of the Speranza egotism in this confident assurance to
bring the twinkle to the captain's eye. He twisted his beard between his
finger and thumb and regarded his grandson mildly.

"Have you any idea how much 'enough' is liable to be, Al?" he inquired.
"I don't know the facts about 'em, of course, but from what I have heard
I judge the Fosdicks have got plenty of cash. I've heard it estimated
around town from one million to fifty millions. Allowin' it's only one
million, it seems likely that your--er--what's-her-name--Madeline has
been used to havin' as much as fifty cents to spend whenever she wanted
it. Do you cal'late to be able to earn enough makin' up poetry to keep
her the way her folks have been doin'?"

"No, of course not--not at first."

"Oh, but later on--when the market price of poetry has gone up--you can,
eh?"

"Look here, Grandfather, if you're making fun of me I tell you I won't
stand it. This is serious; I mean it. Madeline and I are going to be
married some time and no one can stop us."

"All right, son, all right. But it did seem to me that in the light of
this letter from--er--your mother-in-law tha