t like you," said
Peter Conant. "Nor do I approve of your treating your daughter--a great
heiress--as you do, and hoarding all her enormous income for your
personal use. You're not toting fair. It is an unjust arrangement and
I'll have nothing to do with it."

Jason Jones sat still and stared at him.

"Good day, sir!" repeated the lawyer, curtly.

The man did not move. Peter turned to his papers.

"See here," the artist presently remarked; "let's come to an
understanding. I don't like you, either. You're insulting. But you're
honest, and I think I could trust you."

"I'm not especially honest," retorted the lawyer, "but I'm particular.
I don't need clients, and I don't want a client I'm ashamed of."

Still the man did not offer to go. Instead, he reflected for awhile in
his stolid, unemotional way, while Peter Conant frowned and examined
the papers on his desk.

"I believe you'll see the thing in a different light if you read my
wife's will," said Jones. "I've brought a copy of it with me, thinking
it might help you to understand my affairs."

"Is it an attested copy?" asked the lawyer, turning around again.

"Yes."

"Let me see it."

Mr. Conant decided to read the will, with the idea that he might find
in it some way to assist Alora. When he had finished the document he
was disappointed. Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones, a woman clever enough
to make a fortune, had been foolish enough to give her former husband
autocratic power over her money during her daughter's minority. Had the
man been a gentleman, the folly would have been mitigated, but Jason
Jones, in Mr. Conant's opinion, was a selfish, miserly, conscienceless
rascal. Enjoying a yearly income that was a small fortune in itself, he
had neglected to educate his daughter properly, to clothe her as
befitted her station in life or to show her ordinary fatherly
consideration. Affection and kindness seemed foreign to the man's
nature. He handed the will back and said:

"You have taken an unfair advantage of the confidence reposed in you by
your dead wife, who doubtless loved her child. Legally your actions
cannot be assailed, but morally they should ostracize you from decent
society. As I said before, I do not want your business. I'll have
nothing to do with you."

Jones remained unruffled.

"I'm a stranger in the city," he remarked. "Perhaps you will recommend
me to some good lawyer."

"No. There are a score of lawyers in town. Make your own choice."