to his health and
safety. And his father puffed ferociously at a cigar. They had expected
Jeanne to bid them good-bye, but she no doubt was delayed, as one so
often was in newspaper work.

At last it was over. Francisco stood with the bank book in his hand, a
lump in his throat, waving a handkerchief. The ship was departing
rapidly. He could no longer distinguish his parents among the black
specks at the stern of the vessel. Finally he turned, swallowing hard
and put the bank book in his pocket. What a thoughtful chap his father
was! How generous! And how almost girlish his mother had looked in her
new, smart travel suit! Well, they would enjoy themselves for a year or
two. Some day he would travel, too, and see the world. But first there
was work to do. Work was good. And Life was filled with Opportunity. He
thought of Jeanne.

Suddenly he determined to test Robert's advice. Now, if ever, was the
time to challenge Providence. He had in his pocket Adrian's check for
$20,000. The Stanley home was vacant. But more than all else, Jeanne was
being courted by a new reporter on the Chronicle--a sort of poet with
the dashing ways that women liked. He had taken Jeanne to dinner several
times of late.

With a decisive movement Francisco entered a telephone booth. Five
minutes later he emerged smiling. Jeanne had broken an engagement with
the poet chap to dine with him.

Later that evening he tipped an astonished French waiter with a
gold-piece. He and Jeanne walked under a full moon until midnight.

* * * * *

Two months after the Stanleys' departure Francisco and Jeanne were
married and took up their abode in the Stanley home. Francisco worked
diligently at his novel. Now and then they had Robert and Maizie to
dinner. Both Jeanne and Francisco had a warm place in their hearts for
little Maizie Carter. It was perfectly plain that she loved Robert;
sometimes her eyes were plainly envious when they fell on Jeanne in her
gingham apron, presiding over the details of her household with, a
bride's new joy in domestic tasks. But Maizie was a knowing little
woman, too wise to imperil her dream of Love's completeness with a
disturbing element like her mother, growing daily more helpless,
querulous, dependent.

And she had a fine pride, this little working girl. From Robert she
would accept no aid, despite his growing income as the junior partner in
his father's law firm. Benito's health had not of