was immediately absorbed in making figures with the stub
of a pencil on the back of an envelope. He was still there when Nina, in
coat and furs, came downstairs again to the library, where her mother
and Derby were now waiting.

"Well, are you ready at last? Where is your father? What is he doing
now?" her mother demanded with a pout, as if his absence were quite
Nina's fault, and as if whatever his occupation might be it especially
annoyed her. She fluttered to the doorway of his study and looked in.

"James, I really think you might give some thought to your family. Nina
is going now." She spoke in a babyish, aggrieved tone. He did not look
up, and Mrs. Randolph did not repeat her remark; she turned instead to
her daughter. "Go in and tell your father that I think he might pay you
some attention."

Nina went over behind his chair, and gently put her cheek down to his.
She did not interrupt him, but let him finish the calculation he was
doing; and he turned to her after about a minute.

"All right, sweetheart, come along."

Having put his envelope in his pocket, he dismissed whatever it meant
completely from his mind, and Nina held his undivided attention as he
went down the steps with her to the motor, into which Derby had already
put Mrs. Randolph. As soon as they were all in and the machine started,
Nina leaned forward and called to the butler, "Good-by, Dawson!" And for
once the man's face lost its imperturbability, as he answered fervently,
"Good-by, miss, and a safe return--home!"

"Safe return--home." For a moment the question entered her head--was
there any doubt of her returning? With the apprehension came also a
slight sense of excitement--but soon she had forgotten. While they sped
toward the dock, Mrs. Randolph, possibly a little piqued that her
daughter could want to spend the winter away from her, showed her
authority by endless directions and counsels. As she completely
monopolized the conversation as far as Nina was concerned, the two men
talked together, and Nina's responses gradually drifted into a series
of "Yes, Mamma's," to admonitions that were but half heard, until her
wandering attention was brought up with a sharp turn by her mother's
impatient exclamation:

"For goodness sake, Nina, try to be less monotonous!"

Nina roused herself quickly. "I am sorry, Mamma dear! I did not think
there was anything for me to say. Please don't be put out with me, just
now when I am going away!"

They