aned forward, fixing his eyes on Osborn.

"Grace is young, and perhaps I don't make a strong appeal to her
romantic feelings, but I belong to her rank and her views and tastes
are mine. That is much. Also, I can indulge and give her all she likes;
the refinements and comforts to which she is, in a sense, entitled.
After all, they count for something. I'm trying to be practical, but I
love her."

"If you really love her, I think you would do well not to urge her just
now," Osborn remarked quietly.

"Ah," said Thorn, "I can't wait. Waiting has gained me nothing and there
is a risk. If I were young, I'd use all the patience I could control, but
I'm getting old and farther away from Grace. In another year or two I
shall be bald and fat. Perhaps the argument's humorous, but it has a
cruel force for me."

"There are other girls, brought up as we have brought up Grace. They
might be flattered--"

Thorn spread out his hands. "You don't understand. I'm not looking for a
wife! I love her, and if she cannot be persuaded, will never marry
anybody else." He paused and resumed with some emotion: "I know the
shabbiness of using this opportunity; but it's the last I'll get. I don't
want to work on her gratitude, but I see no other plan. I would like to
be generous--but I can't let her go."

"Yet you seem to realize that she does not like you."

"She will get over that. Her likes and dislikes haven't yet hardened into
their final mold. She's impulsive and generous; I can win her by patience
and kindness."

"It is a rash experiment. If you are disappointed, Grace would
have to pay."

Thorn was silent for a few moments. He had talked with sincere passion,
but now began to think. Osborn's firmness was something of a surprise;
Thorn had not expected he would weigh his daughter's feelings against the
danger that threatened his house. His opposition must be broken down.

"I had hoped for your consent," he said and his face got hard. "To some
extent, I took it for granted."

Osborn's head sunk forward. He had struggled, but saw that he was beaten.
To beg would be useless and he could not fight. Pulling himself together
with an effort, he looked up.

"You mean you knew I could not refuse?"

"Yes," said Thorn, awkwardly, "I suppose I do mean something like that."

Osborn gave him a long, steady look. Thorn's face was set and his mouth
was firm. There was no hint of yielding and Osborn got up. "Very well; I
must tell my wife."