" muttered Crawford.

"Well--try, anyway," said Garcide, more amiably.

And now this was the result of that explanation, at least one of the
results; and Miss Castle had promised to wed a gentleman in Ophir Steel
named Crawford, at the convenience of the Hon. John Garcide.

The early morning sunshine fell across the rugs in the music-room,
filling the gloom with golden lights. It touched a strand of hair on
Miss Castle's bent head.

"You'll like him," said Garcide, guiltily.

Her hand hung heavily on the piano keys.

"You have no other man in mind?" he asked.

"No, ... no man."

Garcide chewed the end of his cigar.

"Crawford's a bashful man. Don't make it hard for him," he said.

She swung around on the gilded music-stool, one white hand lying among
the ivory keys.

"I shall spare us both," she said; "I shall tell him that it is
settled."

Garcide rose; she received his caress with composure. He made another
grateful peck at her chin.

"Why don't you take a quiet week or two in the country?" he suggested,
cheerfully, "Go up to the Sagamore Club; Jane will go with you. You can
have the whole place to yourselves. You always liked nature and--er--all
that, eh?"

"Oh yes," she said, indifferently.

That afternoon the Hon. John Garcide sent a messenger to James J.
Crawford with the following letter:

"MY DEAR CRAWFORD,--Your manly and straightforward request for
permission to address my ward, Miss Castle, has profoundly
touched me.

"I have considered the matter, I may say earnestly considered
it.

"Honor and the sacred duties of guardianship forbid that I
should interfere in any way with my dear child's happiness if
she desires to place it in your keeping. On the other hand,
honor and decency prevent me from attempting to influence her to
any decision which might prove acceptable to myself.

"I can therefore only grant you the permission you desire to
address my ward. The rest lies with a propitious Providence.

"Cordially yours, JOHN GARCIDE.

"P.S.--My sister, Miss Garcide, and Miss Castle are going to the
Sagamore Club to-night. I'll take you up there whenever you can
get away."

To which came answer by messenger:

"_Hon. John Garcide_:

"MY DEAR GARCIDE,--Can't go for two weeks. My fool nephew Jim is
on his vacation, and I don't know where he is prowling.
Hastily yours,
"JAMES J. CRAWF