om asking explanations. Mrs.
Bassett had grown increasingly difficult and arbitrary.

"That's the American father all over! Well, I've done my duty."

"No doubt it's a good arrangement. We've got to keep Blackford in hand.
Where's Marian?"

"She's visiting the Willings at their place at Whitewater. She's been
gone a week."

"The Willings? Not those Burton Willings? How did that happen;--I don't
believe we care to have her visit the Willings."

"They are perfectly nice people," she replied defensively, "and Marian
knew their daughter at school. Allen Thatcher is in the party, and
they're all people we know or know about."

"Well, I don't want Marian visiting around promiscuously. I know nothing
about the family, but I don't care for Willing. And we've had enough of
young Thatcher. Marian's already seen too much of him."

"Allen's a perfectly nice fellow. It isn't fair to dislike him on his
father's account. Allen isn't a bit like his father; but even if he were
you used to think well enough of Ed Thatcher."

This shot was well aimed, and Bassett blinked, but he felt that he must
exercise his parental authority. If he had been culpable in neglecting
Blackford he could still take a hand in Marian's affairs.

"So I did," he replied. "But I'm going to telegraph Marian to come home.
What's the Willings' address?"

"Oh, you'll find it on a picture postal card somewhere about. I'll write
Marian to come home; but I wouldn't telegraph if I were you, Morton. And
if you don't like my employing Miss Garrison, you can get rid of her: I
merely felt that _something_ had to be done. I turn it all over to you,"
she ended mournfully.

"Oh, I have no objections to Miss Garrison. We'll see how Blackford gets
on with her."

Bassett was troubled by other things that summer than his son's
education. Harwood's declaration of war in the White River Canneries
matter had proved wholly disagreeable, and Fitch had not been able to
promise that the case might not come to trial, to Bassett's
discomfiture. It was a hot summer, and Bassett had spent a good deal of
time in his office at the Boordman Building, where Harwood's name no
longer adorned the door of Room 66. The 'Advertiser' continued to lay on
the lash for his defeat of the appropriations necessary to sustain
several important state institutions while he carried through his
corporation bill. They were saying in some quarters that he had lost his
head, and that he was now using h