o know was how everything had struck him over there,
especially the Pickett Building and the parlour-cars and Niagara and the
hotels he had instructed him to go to, giving him an introduction in
two or three cases to the gentleman in charge of the office. It was in
relation to these themes that Gaston was guilty of a want of spring, as
the girl phrased it to herself; that he could produce no appreciative
expression. He declared however, repeatedly, that it was a most
extraordinary country--most extraordinary and far beyond anything he had
had any conception of. "Of course I didn't like EVERYTHING," he said,
"any more than I like everything anywhere."

"Well, what didn't you like?" Mr. Dosson enquired, at this, after a
short silence.

Gaston Probert made his choice. "Well, the light for instance."

"The light--the electric?"

"No, the solar! I thought it rather hard, too much like the scratching
of a slate-pencil." As Mr. Dosson hereupon looked vague and rather as if
the reference were to some enterprise (a great lamp company) of which he
had not heard--conveying a suggestion that he was perhaps staying away
too long, Gaston immediately added: "I really think Francie might come
in. I wrote to her that I wanted particularly to see her."

"I'll go and call her--I'll make her come," said Delia at the door. She
left her companions together and Gaston returned to the subject of Mr.
Munster, Mr. Dosson's former partner, to whom he had taken a letter
and who had shown him every sort of civility. Mr. Dosson was pleased at
this; nevertheless he broke out suddenly:

"Look here, you know; if you've got anything to say that you don't think
very acceptable you had better say it to ME." Gaston changed colour, but
his reply was checked by Delia's quick return. She brought the news
that her sister would be obliged if he would go into the little
dining-room--he would find her there. She had something for his ear that
she could mention only in private. It was very comfortable; there was
a lamp and a fire. "Well, I guess she CAN take care of herself!" Mr.
Dosson, at this, commented with a laugh. "What does she want to say to
him?" he asked when Gaston had passed out.

"Gracious knows! She won't tell me. But it's too flat, at his age, to
live in such terror."

"In such terror?"

"Why of your father. You've got to choose."

"How, to choose?"

"Why if there's a person you like and he doesn't like."

"You mean you can't choose y