ow--and
where could I get another? I don't intend to impoverish myself for her
sake--not after what I've done for her." She spoke emphatically. "What
was your idea in asking me about her?"

"I thought it was a pity that such a talent should be left to go to
seed. I wish you could look at it from my standpoint and give her the
wherewithal to go to Europe for three or four years in order to
cultivate it--she can take care of herself well enough."

"And you really advise this?" She asked almost incredulously.

"Why not? You must have seen my interest in the girl. I can't think of a
better way of showing it than to induce you to put her in the way of
earning her livelihood by her talent."

Mrs. Champney made no direct reply. After a moment's silence she asked
abruptly:

"Have you ever said anything to her about this?"

"Never a word."

"Don't then; I don't want her to get any more new-fangled notions into
her head."

"Just as you say; but I wish you would think about it--it seems almost a
matter of justice." He rose to go.

"Where are you going now?"

"Over to the shed office; I want to see the foreman about the last
contract. I'll borrow the boat, if you don't mind, and row up--I have
plenty of time." He looked at his watch. "Can I do anything for you
before I go?" he asked gently, adjusting an awning curtain to shut the
rays of the sun from her face.

"Yes; I wish you would telephone up to Mrs. Caukins and tell her to tell
Aileen to be at home before six; I need her to-night."

"Certainly."

He went into the house and telephoned. He did not think it necessary to
return and report Mrs. Caukins' reply that Aileen "hadn't come up yet."
He went directly to the boat house, wondering in the mean time where she
was.

One of the two boats was already gone; doubtless she had taken it--where
could she be?

He stepped into the boat, and pulled slowly out into the lake, keeping
in the lee of the rocky peninsula of The Bow. He was fairly well
satisfied with his effort in Aileen's behalf and with himself because he
had taken a first step in the right direction. Neither his mother nor
Aunt Meda could say now that he was not disinterested; if Father Honore
came over, as was his custom, to chat with him on the porch for an hour
or two in the evening, he would broach the subject again to him who was
the girl's best friend. If she could go to Europe there would be less
danger--

Danger?--Yes; he was willing to admit i