is was the nearest approach he ever made to
admitting that he expected Lydia to inherit money. He would have been
shocked at the idea of allowing any question of money to influence his
marriage, and would not have lifted a hand to learn the state of his
future father-in-law's finances. Still, it was evident to the most
disinterested eye that there were plenty of funds behind the Emery's
ample, comfortable mode of life, and on this point his eyes were keen,
for all their delicacy.

As the young people paused at the door, Judge Emery took a note-book out
of his pocket and elaborately made a note. "Fifty-five minutes in eight
days, Lydia," he called.

At the end of a fortnight he proclaimed aloud that the record was too
discouraging to keep any longer; he was losing ground instead of
gaining. He had followed Mrs. Emery to her room one afternoon to make
this complaint, and now moved about uneasily, trying to bestow his
large, square figure where he would not be in the way of his wife, who
was hurrying nervously about to pack Lydia's traveling bag. She looked
very tired and pale, and spoke as though near a nervous outbreak of some
sort. Didn't he know that Lydia had to start for the Mallory Valentine
house-party this afternoon, she asked with an asperity not directed at
the Judge's complaint, for she considered that negligible, but at Lydia
for being late. She often became so absorbed and fascinated by her own
managerial capacity that she was vastly put out by lapses on the part of
the object of it. She did not spare herself when it was a question of
Lydia's career. Without a thought of fatigue or her own personal tastes,
she devoted herself with a fanatic zeal to furthering her daughter's
interests. It sometimes seemed very hard to bear that Lydia herself was
so much less zealous in the matter.

When the girl came in now, flushed and guiltily breathless, Dr. Melton
trotted at her heels, calling out excuses for her tardiness. "It's my
fault. I met her scurrying away from a card-party, and she was exactly
on time. But I walked along with her and detained her."

"It was the sunset," said Lydia, hurrying to change her hat and wraps.
"It was so fine that when Godfather called my attention to it, I just
_stood_! I forgot everything! There may have been sunsets before this
winter, but it seems as though I hadn't had time to see one before--over
the ironworks, you know, where that hideous black smoke is all day, and
the sun tur