you from
the balcony."

"How's your mother feeling?" he asked.

"She's asleep. She seems better to me since she's come back to Fairview."

Mr. Flint stared at the mountain with unseeing eyes.

"Father," said Victoria, "don't you think you ought to stay up here at
least a week, and rest? I think so."

"No," he said, "no. There's a directors' meeting of a trust company
to-morrow which I have to attend. I'm not tired."

Victoria shook her head, smiling at him with serious eyes.

"I don't believe you know when you are tired," she declared. "I can't see
the good of all these directors' meetings. Why don't you retire, and live
the rest of your life in peace? You've got--money enough, and even if you
haven't," she added, with the little quiver of earnestness that sometimes
came into her voice, "we could sell this big house and go back to the
farmhouse to live. We used to be so happy there."

He turned abruptly, and fixed upon her a steadfast, searching stare that
held, nevertheless, a strange tenderness in it.

"You don't care for all this, do you, Victoria?" he demanded, waving his
stick to indicate the domain of Fairview.

She laughed gently, and raised her eyes to the green roof of the needles.

"If we could only keep the pine grove!" she sighed. "Do you remember what
good times we had in the farmhouse, when you and I used to go off for
whole days together?"

"Yes," said Mr. Flint, "yes."

"We don't do that any more," said Victoria. "It's only a little drive and
a walk, now and then. And they seem to be growing--scarcer."

Mr. Flint moved uneasily, and made an attempt to clear his voice.

"I know it," he said, and further speech seemingly failed him. Victoria
had the greater courage of the two.

"Why don't we?" she asked.

"I've often thought of it," he replied, still seeking his words with
difficulty. "I find myself with more to do every year, Victoria, instead
of less."

"Then why don't you give it up?"

"Why?" he asked, "why? Sometimes I wish with my whole soul I could give
it up. I've always said that you had more sense than most women, but even
you could not understand."

"I could understand," said Victoria.

He threw at her another glance,--a ring in her words proclaimed their
truth in spite of his determined doubt. In her eyes--had he but known
it!--was a wisdom that exceeded his.

"You don't realize what you're saying," he exclaimed; "I can't leave the
helm."

"Isn't it," she said, "rat