self, and she sees it, as he means she shall. The
drawings are satisfactory, and he expresses his obligation to her.

"I don't know as I can summon up courage to offer you any ordinary
payment," he says, "but if you will accept some gift in its stead,--if
you will allow me to make it something beyond a mere business
transaction----"

"Oh, it is such a trifle," and Marcia's head takes its airy curve. "I
think I should like----"

"Well?" he asks, rather startled.

"Please don't laugh at me," she begins, in a tone of girlish entreaty,
which is not bad, "but I have been thinking--wondering if I could turn
my gift to any advantage?"

Marcia is really blushing now. It seems paltry to think of working for
money, unless one could earn it by the hundreds.

"Yes, I suppose you could," he replies, "but you have a genius for
better things. You _can_ design very well," and he is in earnest now.
"There are a great many branches. Why?" he asks, abruptly.

"Oh," she replies, "I get so tired of the frivolity of life. I long to
do something beyond the mere trifles."

"I suppose you miss both of your sisters," he remarks, with a touch of
sympathy. "You are learning now what loneliness is. Although there is
your brother's wife----"

"A child, a mere child, who can thrum a little on the piano and dress
dolls for Cecil. I never _could_ understand _why_ Floyd married her."

"There was the fortune," suggests Mr. Wilmarth.

"Oh, Floyd did not care for that! You see he has had it all tied up so
that he cannot touch it."

"Those who tie can sometimes untie," he answers, dryly.

"No. _I_ have always thought there was some silly sentiment, or perhaps
Mr. St. Vincent asked it of him," she cries, with sudden inspiration,
"for Floyd could have rewarded her for saving the child's life."

Evidently the marriage is not pleasing to Miss Marcia. That scores one
in her favor as a good ally. Through Eugene he has learned that it was
generally unsatisfactory, but he has fancied Marcia just the kind to be
caught by a sweet young girl.

He has been considering the point in all its bearings these few
days,--whether he really wants to be bothered with a wife, only he need
not allow the wife to bother, and whether it would be better to win her
openly or not. If the house at the park were her father's, but it is
Floyd Grandon's, and he might some day be dismissed. He feels
intuitively that Grandon would oppose the marriage from the
under-current