e. She is a niece of a very dear friend, and for a time I thought
she might do. But she has no soul, no passion, and music, like a man,
must have passion. Music without passion is a crime against art. So I
just told Duff, he's chairman, you know, of the Board of Directors, that
she was impossible and that we must have you. I have heard you sing, my
dear, and I know the singer's face and the singer's throat and eye. You
have them all. You have the voice and the temperament and the passion.
You'll be great some day, much greater than I, and, with the hope of
sharing your glory, I have decided to put my money on you."

Iola murmured some words of thanks, not knowing just what to say, but
Mrs. Duff Charrington waved them aside.

"Purely selfish," she said, "purely selfish, my dear. Now don't let
Bulling worry you. I pick him for a winner, too. He has force. He'll be
a power in the country. Inclines to politics. He's a kind of brute,
of course, but he'll succeed, for he has wealth and social prestige,
neither to be sniffed at, my child. But, especially, he has driving
power. But I'll have my eye on him this trip, so enjoy your outing."

Mrs. Duff Charrington was as good as her word. She knew nothing of the
finesse of diplomacy in the manipulation of her company. Her method was
straightforward dragooning. Observing the persistent attempts of
Dr. Bulling during the early part of the trip to secure Iola for a
tete-a-tete, she called out across the deck in the ears of the whole
company, "See here, Bulling, I won't have you trying to monopolise our
star. We're out for a good time and we're going to have it. Miss Lane is
not your property. She belongs to us all." Thenceforth Dr. Bulling, with
what grace he could summon, had to content himself with just so much of
Iola's company as his hostess decided he should have.

It was Iola's first experience of yachting, and it brought her a series
of sensations altogether new and delightful. As the yacht skimmed, like
a great white-winged bird, over the blue waters of Ontario, the humming
breeze, the swift rush through the parting waves, the sense of buoyant
life with which the yacht seemed to be endowed made her blood jump. She
abandoned herself to the joys of the hour and became the life and soul
of the whole party. And were it not for Barney's haunting face, the two
days' outing would have been for Iola among the happiest experiences
of her life. But Barney's last look across the widen