s; perhaps it
dulled his brain, and that is why he is no longer able to do good work.
He was utterly crushed, I imagine, and hadn't the stamina to recover
his former poise. He must have been ten years or so in this condition,
despairing and disinterested, when the wheel of fortune turned and he
was again in the possession of wealth. He had now the means to live as
he pleased. But those years had so changed him that he couldn't respond
to the new conditions. Doubtless he was glad, in a way, but he was now
content merely to exist. Doesn't that seem logical, Alora?"

Indeed, Mary Louise was delighted with her solution of the problem. It
was in keeping with her talent for deducing the truth from meagre facts
by logically putting them together and considering them as a whole. It
was seldom she erred in these deductions. But Alora seemed unimpressed
and noting her glum look Mary Louise said again: "Doesn't all this seem
logical, dear?"

"No," said Alora. "Father isn't the man to be crushed by anything. He's
shrewd enough, in his _bourgeois_ way. Once, long ago--back in New
York--a woman made him give her money; it was money, you know; and I
have often thought he ran away from America to escape her further
demands."

"Who was the woman?"

"My mother's nurse."

"Oh. Was it her wages she demanded?"

"Perhaps so. I may have misjudged father in that case. But it seemed to
me--I was a mere child then--that it must have been a larger sum than
wages would have amounted to. Yet, perhaps not. Anyhow, he left America
right afterward, and when we had wandered a year or so in various
countries we settled down here."

"Won't he have to account for all the money he has spent and given
away, when you come of age?" inquired Mary Louise.

"No. Mother distinctly told me I was to ask for no accounting whatever.
Her will says he is to handle the income as he sees fit, just as if it
were his own, so long as he provides properly for his daughter and
treats her with fatherly consideration. That's the only reason he keeps
me with him, guarding my person but neglecting the other injunctions.
If he set me adrift, as I'm sure he'd like to do, I could appeal to the
court and his income would cease and another guardian be appointed. I
believe there is something of that sort in the will, and that is why he
is so afraid of losing me. But he gives me no chance to appeal to
anyone, although I sometimes think I shall run away and leave him in
the lu