uch troubled himself. "I cannot help remembering that it was
I let you in for all this--"

"Don't say that, Evelyn," Brand broke in, quickly. "Do you think I would
have it otherwise? Once in America, I shall no doubt forget how I came
to go there. I shall have something to do."

"I--I was going to say that--that perhaps you are not quite fair to
Lind. You impute motives that may not exist."

Lord Evelyn flushed a little; it was almost as if he were excusing or
defending one he had no particular wish to defend; but all the same,
with some hesitation, he continued,

"Consider Lind's position. Mind, your reading of his conduct is only
pure assumption. It is quite possible that he would be really and
extremely surprised if he knew that you fancied he had been allowing
personal feelings to sway his decision. But suppose this--suppose he is
honestly convinced that you would be of great service in America. He has
seen what you can do in the way of patient persuading of people. I know
he has plenty around him who can do the risky business--men who have
been adventurous all their lives--who would like nothing better than to
be commissioned to set up a secret printing-press next door to the
Commissary of Police in St. Petersburg. I say he has plenty of people
like that; but very few who have persistence and patience enough to do
what you have been doing in the north of England. He told me so himself.
Very well. Suppose he thinks that what you have been doing this man
Molyneux can carry on? Suppose, in short, that, if he had no daughter at
all, he would be anxious to send you to the States?"

Brand nodded. There was no harm in letting his friend have his theory.

"Very well. Now suppose that, having this daughter, he would rather not
have her marry. He says she is of great service to him; and his wish to
have her with him always would probably exaggerate that service,
unconsciously to himself, if it were proposed to take her away. That is
only natural."

Brand again assented.

"Very well. He discovers that you and she are attached to each other.
Probably he does not consider it a very serious affair, so far; but he
knows that if you remain in London it would probably become so. Now,
Natalie is a girl of firm character; she is very gentle, but she is not
a fool. If you remained in London she would probably marry you, whether
her father liked it or not, if she thought it was right. He knows that;
he knows that the girl is c