Roger.

"Does it really appeal to you, lad?" she asked wistfully.

"It certainly does," he cried with enthusiasm. "And besides I don't see
how I'll ever get into business unless I buy my way in. This is a chance
in a million. There's money in newspapers. Look at _The Press_. Why, you
couldn't buy its stock--not at any price."

Tears forced themselves into Judith's eyes. She wondered if she ought to
let Roger deceive himself. She knew all too clearly that Good's
ambitions lay not along the route of money. She wondered fearfully if he
could transform Roger's ideals from the conventional worship of
profit-taking to something less substantial and less understood. But as
she thought what he had already accomplished with the boy, her fears
vanished, giving place to a feeling of awe. What was the secret of this
man's fascination, that he could force her to yield implicit faith to
his lightest word? What caused him to be able, not merely to convert her
to the most amazing ideas, but actually to make her join him in the
propaganda? She had a premonition of what John Baker would say when she
told him her decision. Then the recollection of the salary which Good
had proposed for himself came to her, and she smiled.

All that day and until far into the night, she and Roger discussed the
great idea. Or rather, Roger talked and planned and dreamed, and she
listened. And as she listened to his enthusiasm, the first of his life
over anything really worth while, her resolution crystallised. If she
could give money toward the building of a church in which her interest
was undeniably decreasing, she could give money toward the building of
her brother into manhood. And she was far from overlooking the
opportunity for herself. She had never heard of a woman going into the
publishing of newspapers, but Good's enthusiasm for the high ends to be
attained had fired her more than she realised, and as the hours passed,
she flamed higher with real enthusiasm for what had, at first thought,
seemed the wildest of wild projects. Before she retired, her mind was
quite made up. She, idler and parasite, would play a part in the world
of affairs.

The next morning, calm but determined, and speaking her thoughts in few
words, she was in John Baker's office. Briefly and clearly, she made
known to him the resolution she had taken. His jaw dropped as he
listened, and his usual immobility of countenance quite deserted him. He
tried to smile.

"So you wa