isite
sensations. And when he came the following day he apparently had once
more restored her father to his proper place of a nonessential. All that
definitely remained of the day before's impression was a certain
satisfaction that he was aiding with his money an enterprise of greater
value and of less questionable character than merely his own project.
But the powerful influences upon our life and conduct are rarely direct
and definite. He, quite unconsciously, had a wholly different feeling
about Dorothy because of her father, because of what his new knowledge
of and respect for her father had revealed and would continue to reveal
to him as to the girl herself--her training, her inheritance, her
character that could not but be touched with the splendor of the
father's noble genius. And long afterward, when the father as a distinct
personality had been almost forgotten, Norman was still, altogether
unconsciously, influenced by him--powerfully, perhaps decisively
influenced. Norman had no notion of it, but ever after that talk in the
laboratory, Dorothy Hallowell was to him Newton Hallowell's daughter.

When he came the following day, with his original purposes and plans
once more intact, as he thought, he found that she had made more of a
toilet than usual, had devised a new way of doing her hair that enabled
him to hang a highly prized addition in his memory gallery of widely
varied portraits of her.

The afternoon was warm. They sat under a big old tree at the end of the
garden. He saw that she was much disturbed--and that it had to do with
him. From time to time she looked at him, studying his face when she
thought herself unobserved. As he had learned that it is never wise to
open up the disagreeable, he waited. After making several futile efforts
at conversation, she abruptly said:

"I saw Mr. Tetlow this morning--in Twenty-third Street. I was coming out
of a chemical supplies store where father had sent me."

She paused. But Norman did not help her. He continued to wait.

"He--Mr. Tetlow--acted very strangely," she went on. "I spoke to him. He
stared at me as if he weren't going to speak--as if I weren't fit to
speak to."

"Oh!" said Norman.

"Then he came hurrying after me. And he said, 'Do you know that Norman
is to be married in two weeks?'"

"So!" said Norman.

"And I said, 'What of it? How does that interest me?'"

"It didn't interest you?"

"I was surprised that you hadn't spoken of it," repli