drew down the slanted brows with a
delicious effect of surprise.

"I'm sorry; but you can't have that house."

"Why not?"

"It's mine."

"Now, you take any other house in New York that you want," she cajoled.
"Fifth Avenue is still nice. Any one can live on Fifth Avenue, though.
But to have a real house on Battery Place--that's different."

"My idea exactly."

She sat bolt upright. "You aren't serious. You don't mean the
mosaic-front house with the little pillars?"

"The oldest house left on Battery Place. That's it."

"And you claim it's yours?"

"Practically. I don't exactly own it--"

"Then you never will. I've wished it in," she announced with the
calmness of finality.

"Think how good for you it would be not to get something you wanted. The
tonic effect of a life-size disappointment--"

"No," she said, shaking her head violently, "it wouldn't be good for me
at all. I should cry and become a red-nosed mess again.
_I'm--going--to--have--that--house._ Why, Mr. Dad--Mr. Smi--Mr. Man,"
she cried, with a gesture of desperation, "I've owned that house in my
mind for five years."

"Five years! I've owned it for five generations."

"Are you claiming that it's your family place?"

"It is. Is it yours? Are you my long-lost cousin, by any chance? Welcome
to my arms--coat of arms, I mean."

"What would that be?" she inquired mischievously, "a collar-button,
fessed--"

"Bending above a tearful maiden rampant. The legend, 'Stand on your own
feet; if you don't, somebody else will.'"

"I don't _think_ I can boast any cousin named Daddleskink," she
observed. "Anyway, we're not New Yorkers. We came from the West."

"Where the money is made," he commented.

"To the East where it is spent," she concluded.

"Why spend it buying other people's houses?"

"Daddleskink Manor," ruminated the girl, in mocking solemnity. "Shall
you restore the ancient glory of the name? By the way, Dr. Alderson's
researches don't seem to have brought your clan to light, in the records
of the house."

"Oh, my interest is on my mother's side," said the Tyro hastily. "That's
why I'm buying the property."

"You're not!" said the girl, with a little stamp of her foot. Her
companion moved back apprehensively. "Can you pay a million dollars for
it?"

"No. Can you?"

"Never mind. Dad said he'd get it for me if--if--well, he promised to,
anyway."

"If you'd marry the marionette who recently faded from view?"

"Ye--yes."

"Far b