youth have a certain charm one likes
instinctively, I think.

There is no doubt that Mr. Porter quite captivated Dad. "You make me
feel like a boy," he said, after listening to a delightfully
whimsical account of conditions in Peru. "By George, that's a
country for you! And Ecuador, I've always thought that must be an
interesting place. Have you ever been there?"

Yes, Mr. Porter had been to Ecuador. And there was a certain
rail-road in India he had helped put through. India! Now that WAS a
place! Had Dad ever been to India?

No, Dad had never been to India, but... "Good Lord, boy, how old
are you, anyway?"

"Thirty-two."

"Well, I never would have guessed it. Would you, Elizabeth?"

This, too, was rather embarrassing, but I managed to say I thought
Mr. Porter didn't look a day over twenty-eight.

"It's the life he leads," Dad declared with an air of
proprietorship--"out of doors all day long. It must be great!"

"It IS interesting. But I think I like it best for what it has done
for one; you see, I was supposed to have lungs once, long ago. Now
I'm as sound as a dollar."

"He looks it, doesn't he, Elizabeth!"

If Dad hadn't been such a dear, I should have been annoyed by his
constant requests for my opinion where it was so obviously
unnecessary. But Dad is such a dear. To make it worse, Mr. Porter
seemed to consider that whether he was, or was not, as sound as a
dollar, depended entirely on my answer.

"One would think I was a sort of supreme court from the way Dad
refers all questions to me. But I warn you, Mr. Porter; my 'yes' or
'no' makes little difference in his opinions."

"You are my supreme court, and they do," declared Dad.

"I'm sure they do," said Mr. Porter,

"When the novelty of having me with you has worn off, you'll be your
same old domineering self, Daddy dear."

"Domineering! Hear the minx! I'm a regular lamb, Porter. That
reminds me: When are you going to California!"

"I hadn't thought. That is, I had thought... That is, I've wished...
I mean I've wondered..... I hope you won't think me presumptuous,
Mr. Middleton, but I've wondered if you'd allow me to go on the same
train with you and Miss Middleton."

"Why, my dear boy, we'd be delighted. Wouldn't we, Elizabeth!"

Mr. Porter turned to me. "You see, Miss Middleton, you are the
supreme court, after all," his lips said. But his eyes told me why
he wanted to go on the same train with Dad and me, told me plainer
than words. Per