day.

"Upon my word," he said, "I don't know why I'm so anxious to get
you to do the work. I suppose it's because you don't want to. You
remind me of my son. Ah, he's a problem!"

Shirley started involuntarily when Ryder mentioned his son. But he
did not notice it.

"Why, is he wild?" she asked, as if only mildly interested.

"Oh, no, I wish he were," said Ryder.

"Fallen in love with the wrong woman, I suppose," she said.

"Something of the sort--how did you guess?" asked Ryder surprised.

Shirley coughed to hide her embarrassment and replied
indifferently.

"So many boys do that. Besides," she added with a mischievous
twinkle in her eyes, "I can hardly imagine that any woman would be
the right one unless you selected her yourself!"

Ryder made no answer. He folded his arms and gazed at her. Who was
this woman who knew him so well, who could read his inmost
thoughts, who never made a mistake? After a silence he said:

"Do you know you say the strangest things?"

"Truth is strange," replied Shirley carelessly. "I don't suppose
you hear it very often."

"Not in that form," admitted Ryder.

Shirley had taken on to her lap some of the letters he had passed
her, and was perusing them one after another.

"All these letters from Washington consulting you on politics and
finance--they won't interest the world."

"My secretary picked them out," explained Ryder. "Your artistic
sense will tell you what to use."

"Does your son still love this girl? I mean the one you object
to?" inquired Shirley as she went on sorting the papers.

"Oh, no, he does not care for her any more," answered Ryder
hastily.

"Yes, he does; he still loves her," said Shirley positively.

"How do _you_ know?" asked Ryder amazed.

"From the way you say he doesn't," retorted Shirley.

Ryder gave his caller a look in which admiration was mingled with
astonishment.

"You are right again," he said. "The idiot does love the girl."

"Bless his heart," said Shirley to herself. Aloud she said:

"I hope they'll both outwit you."

Ryder laughed in spite of himself. This young woman certainly
interested him more than any other he had ever known.

"I don't think I ever met anyone in my life quite like you," he
said.

"What's the objection to the girl?" demanded Shirley.

"Every objection. I don't want her in my family."

"Anything against her character?"

To better conceal the keen interest she took in the personal turn
the conve