s to bother her head with such
matters. Only yesterday she was a child!"

Richard glanced across at Margaret, and endeavored to recall her
as she impressed him that first afternoon, when she knocked defiantly
at the workshop door to inquire if he wanted any pans and pails; but
he was totally unable to reconstruct that crude little figure with
the glossy black head, all eyes and beak, like a young hawk's.

"My objection is impersonal," continued Mr. Slocum. "I object to
the idea. I wish this had not happened. I might not have disliked
it--years hence; I don't say; but I dislike it now."

Richard's face brightened. "It will be years hence in a few
years!"

Mr. Slocum replied with a slow, grave smile, "I am not going to be
unreasonable in a matter where I find Margaret's happiness concerned;
and yours, Richard, I care for that, too; but I'll have no
entanglements. You and she are to be good friends, and nothing
beyond. I prefer that Margaret should not come to the studio so
often; you shall see her whenever you like at our fireside, of an
evening. I don't think the conditions hard."

Mr. Slocum had dictated terms, but it was virtually a surrender.
Margaret listened to him with her cheek resting against his arm, and
a warm light nestled down deep under her eyelids.

Mr. Slocum drew a half-pathetic sigh. "I presume I have not done
wisely. Every one bullies me. The Marble Workers' Association ruins
my yard for me, and now my daughter is taken off my hands. By the
way, Richard," he said, interrupting himself brusquely, and with an
air of dismissing the subject, "I forgot what I came for. I've been
thinking over Torrini's case, and have concluded that you had better
make up his account and discharge him."

"Certainly, sir," replied Richard, with a shadow of dissent in his
manner, "if you wish it."

"He causes a deal of trouble in the yard."

"I am afraid he does. Such a clean workman when he's sober!"

"But he is never sober."

"He has been in a bad way lately, I admit."

"His example demoralizes the men. I can see it day by day."

"I wish he were not so necessary at this moment," observed
Richard. "I don't know who else could be trusted with the frieze for
the Soldiers' Monument. I'd like to keep him on a week or ten days
longer. Suppose I have a plain talk with Torrini?"

"Surely we have enough good hands to stand the loss of one."

"For a special kind of work there is nobody in the yard like
Torrini. That