eve that. How long has he known you?"

"I saw him once or twice last summer, at Leith," said Victoria, now
wavering between laughter and exasperation. She had got herself into a
quandary indeed when she had to parry the appalling frankness of such
inquiries.

"The more you see of him, the more you'll admire him, I'll prophesy,"
said Tom. "If he'd been content to travel along the easy road, as most
fellows are, he would have been counsel for the Northeastern. Instead of
that--" here Tom halted abruptly, and turned scarlet: "I forgot," he
said, "I'm always putting my foot in it, with ladies."

He was so painfully confused that Victoria felt herself suffering with
him, and longed to comfort him.

"Please go on, Mr. Gaylord," she said; "I am very much interested in my
neighbours here, and I know that a great many of them think that the
railroad meddles in politics. I've tried to find out what they think, but
it is so difficult for a woman to understand. If matters are wrong, I'm
sure my father will right them when he knows the situation. He has so
much to attend to." She paused. Tom was still mopping his forehead. "You
may say anything you like to me, and I shall not take offence."

Tom's admiration of her was heightened by this attitude.

"Austen wouldn't join Mr. Crewe in his little game, anyway," he said.
"When Ham Tooting, Crewe's manager, came to him he kicked him
downstairs."

Victoria burst out laughing.

"I constantly hear of these ferocious deeds which Mr. Vane commits," she
said, "and yet he seems exceptionally good-natured and mild-mannered."

"That's straight--he kicked him downstairs. Served Tooting right, too."

"There does seem to have been an element of justice in it," Victoria
remarked.

"You haven't seen Austen since he left his father?" Mr. Gaylord inquired.

"Left him! Where--has he gone?"

"Gone up to live with Jabe Jenney. If Austen cared anything about money,
he never would have broken with the old man, who has some little put
away."

"Why did he leave his father?" asked Victoria, not taking the trouble now
to conceal her interest.

"Well," said Tom, "you know they never did get along. It hasn't been
Austen's fault--he's tried. After he came back from the West he stayed
here to please old Hilary, when he might have gone to New York and made a
fortune at the law, with his brains. But after Austen saw the kind of law
the old man practised he wouldn't stand for it, and got an office of