tion to, either."

She moved impatiently, so that the shoelace slipped out of his hand,
and he had to begin all over again. It was a very shabby shoe; at
another time she might have minded about it, and even refused to have
it fastened on that account; to-night she did not care, which was
perhaps as well, for Rawson-Clew knew long ago all about the
shabbiness--the only thing he did not know before was the good shape
of the foot inside.

"I know perfectly well what you thought my father," she said; "if you
have forgotten, I will remind you. You did not think him an
adventurer, I know; of course, you saw he had not brains enough."

But here the shoe tying was finished, and Rawson-Clew intimated
politely that he was not anxious to be reminded of things he had
forgotten. "You began by saying you would tell me about yourself," he
said; "will you not go on?"

"I have more brains than my father," she said, "and no more
principles."

"_Ergo_--you succeed where he falls short; in fact, you are an
adventuress--is that it? My dear child, you neither are, nor ever
could be; believe me, I really do know, though, as you have indicated,
my morality is rather mechanical and my experience much as other
men's. You see, I, too, have graduated in the study of humanity in the
university of cosmopolis; I don't think my degree is as high as yours,
and I certainly did not take it so young, but I believe I know an
adventuress when I see one. You will never do in that walk of life; I
don't mean to insinuate that you haven't brains enough, or that you
would ever lose your head; it isn't that you would lose, it's your
heart."

"I haven't;" Julia cried hotly. "I have not lost my heart; that has
nothing to do with it."

"I did not say that you had," Rawson-Clew reminded her; "of course
not, you have not lost it, and could not easily. I did not mean that;
I only meant that it would interfere with your success as an
adventuress."

"It would not," Julia persisted; "I don't care about people a bit; it
isn't that, it is simply that I am sick of deception, that is why I am
telling you the truth. And as for the other thing--the daffodil"--she
forgot that he did not know about it--"I couldn't take it from any one
so silly, so childish, so trusting."

"Of course not," Rawson-Clew said. "I don't know what the daffodil
thing is, nor from whom you could not take it--please don't tell me; I
never take the slightest interest in other people's busines