"I never was so proud of any one," cried Gorham, with more enthusiasm
than he often manifested. "Now it is the old Stephen I used to know and
love, acting his own self once more! But you are going to have your
chance to crow over me. Stephen, I've been a more obstinate old fool
than you ever thought of being, and I'm going to make you my
father-confessor."

Then he told him of Allen's development, from the first day he entered
the offices of the Consolidated Companies down to the time when he had
himself sent the boy away from him in anger. He even told him of the
crisis in the corporation, knowing that their conversation was sacred to
his old friend. Then he dwelt on Allen's courage in the face of his own
blindness, and his admiration for the boy's attitude throughout.

"He is planning to go back to you, Stephen, but I shan't let him if I
can help it. I have made him think that his work has been a failure,
when in reality his vision has been clearer than mine. But don't tell
him this. Let your talk be of yourselves. Then bring him to me
to-morrow for dinner, and let me show him what he really is."

"I told you he'd make a fine business man," Stephen could not resist
saying. "You remember that."

"I do," laughed Gorham. "That is why I gave him the chance. You remember
asking me to do it, don't you?"

"There's another thing I told you, Robert,--that you never could do
business on the basis you planned unless you had angels all the way up
from the office boy to the Board of Directors."

"It has been my fault in not being able to distinguish between angels
and mortals," Gorham replied seriously, his mind reverting to the great
problem which still lay unsolved before him. "I am not willing yet to
admit that the basis is wrong,--the error must rest in the building.
Good-night, Stephen. Be sure to bring Allen with you to-morrow."

* * * * *

Covington entered the library, walking with short, quick steps quite
unlike his usual deliberate gait, and sat down in the chair just vacated
by Mr. Sanford. Gorham noted at once the change which had come over his
features, even during the few hours which had elapsed since morning. For
the first time his eyes showed a nervous unrest, the lines about his
mouth had settled into a hard, disagreeable expression, and his whole
manner evidenced the strain he was enduring. Gorham noted all this, and
in a measure it surprised him. If Covington was so con