udent-minded people. The chances of my goose proving a swan were
altogether too slight to justify the extravagance I proposed. But
despite this I never once wavered in my resolution, nor suffered doubt
to mar the mirror of fancy in which I chose to behold my protege
fulfilling the ample measure of his ambition in the years to come. What
an absorbing interest it would be to me to watch from behind my mask the
progress he made! If he proved successful, I could feel that part of the
creating power was mine; for had I not trusted him? Let a man realize
that there is some one who has faith in him, and the battle is half won.
Even suppose he were to prove the recreant and the impostor predicted,
the world would not be able to jeer at me; I could hug my wretched
secret, and none would be the wiser. Decidedly, I was to be envied in
the acquisition of this new interest. It would be almost like having a
double self, for was not my hero pondering over the same questions that
were constantly in my thoughts,--how a rich man was to spend his money?
With this difference, however: his ideas were already settled, whereas
mine were in process of formation. I was to share with him my fortune,
and he would enlighten me in turn. Perhaps also there was a shade of
irony in my reflections, and I was eager to see if he would find the
role of a merchant-prince so easy to play as he seemed to fancy. Then,
too, there was a delightful element of uncertainty and mystery about it
all. I was original; I was not copying every one else. Although of Mr.
Prime in a personal sense I scarcely thought at all, there was a
romantic flavor to the episode that stirred my imagination.

So gay and light-hearted did I feel that Aunt Helen noted it, and
alluded to the fact with pleasure as we sat together on the Friday
evening previous to Mr. Prime's return.

"I have good reason to be. I feel very happy to-night. I could dance
until morning, or do anything equally frivolous and erratic," I answered
mysteriously. She looked up with an anxious expression. "No, Aunt Helen
dear, I am not engaged. It is nothing so dreadful as that. It is merely
that I think I may have found my mission at last."

"Mission! What does the child mean? Don't tell me," she cried with a
sudden access of horror, "that you are going out to convert the Indians,
or to do any peculiar thing like that. That would be the last straw!"

"Try again," I said laughing.

"You gave me a scare, Virginia!