olet,
all your life long you must honor and obey this man. There are few like
him."

Grandon kisses the flushed forehead. It is a very simple betrothal. He
has given away his manhood's freedom without a thought of what it may
be worth to him, she has signed away her girlhood's soul. Secretly, she
feels proud of such a master; that is what her training bids her accept
in him. She is to learn the lessons of honor and obedience. No one has
ever told her about love, except that it is the natural outcome of the
other duties.

"I think," Mr. Grandon says, "you must see a lawyer now, and have all
your business properly attended to. There will be nothing to discuss
when Mr. Wilmarth comes."

St. Vincent bows feebly. He, Grandon, must go and put these matters in
train.

CHAPTER IX.

But he who says light does not necessarily say joy.--HUGO.

Floyd Grandon strides down the street in a great tumult of thought and
uncertainty, but positive upon one subject. Every possible chance of
fortune shall be so tied up to Violet that no enemy can accuse him of
taking an advantage. Surely he does not need the poor child's money. If
it is _not_ a success,--and this is the point that decides him,--if the
hope is swept away, she will have a home and a protector.

His first matrimonial experiment has not left so sweet a flavor in his
soul that he must hasten to a second draught. He looks at it
philosophically. Violet is a well-trained child, neither exacting nor
coquettish. She will have Cecil for an interest, and he must keep his
time for his own pursuits. He is wiser than in the old days. Violet is
sweet and fresh, and the child loves her.

Mr. Connery listens to the story in a surprise that he hardly conceals.
Grandon feels a little touched. "There really was nothing else to do,"
he cries, "and I like Miss St. Vincent. I'm not the kind of man to be
wildly in love, but I can respect and admire, for all that. Now choose
the man you have the greatest confidence in, and he must be a
trustee,--with you. She is so young, and I think it would be a good
thing for you two men to take charge of her fortune, if it comes to
that, until she is at least twenty-five; then she will know what to do
with it."

Connery ruminates. "Ralph Sherburne is just the man," he exclaims. "He
is honest and firm to a thread, and keen enough to see through a
grindstone if you turn fast or slow. Come along."

They are soon closeted in the invalid's room.