importance and concern to me."

Sanders came across the room and stood beside the desk.

"Briefly as possible, I am much exercised about my daughter."

The old man moved up a chair and buried himself in it. Pressing his
elbows tightly against his sides, he drew his neck in, and with the
tips of his right hand fingers consorted and coquetted with their like
on the opposite hand; then he simply asked, "Who is the man?"

"He is the violinist who has created such a sensation here, Angelo
Diotti."

"Yes, I've seen the name in print," returned the old man.

"He has bewitched Mildred. I never have seen her show the least
interest in a man before. She never has appeared to me as an
impressionable girl or one that could easily be won."

"That is very true," ejaculated Sanders; "she always seemed tractable
and open to reason in all questions of love and courting. I can recall
several instances where I have set her right by my estimation of men,
and invariably she has accepted my views."

"And mine until now," said the father, and then he recounted his
experience of the night before. "I had hoped she would not fall in
love, but be a prop and comfort to me now that I am alone. I am
dismayed at the prospect before me."

Then the old man mused: "In the chrysalis state of girlhood, a parent
arranges all the details of his daughter's future; when and whom she
shall marry. 'I shall not allow her to fall in love until she is
twenty-three,' says the fond parent. 'I shall not allow her to marry
until she is twenty-six,' says the fond parent. 'The man she marries
will be the one I approve of, and then she will live happy ever after,'
concludes the fond parent."

Deluded parent! false prophet! The anarchist, Love, steps in and
disdains all laws, rules and regulations. When finally the father
confronts the defying daughter, she calmly says, "Well, what are you
going to do about it?" And then tears, forgiveness, complete
capitulation, and, sometimes, she and her husband live happily ever
afterwards.

"We must find some means to end this attachment. A union between a
musician and my daughter would be most mortifying to me. Some plan must
be devised to separate them, but she must not know of it, for she is
impatient of restraint and will not brook opposition."

"Are you confident she really loves this violinist?"

"She confessed as much to me," said the perturbed banker.

Old Sanders tapped with both hands on his shining crani