onet, you see, to be plain, it's just this way. If I marry
Marjory, folks'll say I'm doing it to get control of the widder's stock.
It's small; but they'll say it."

"Why should it be small?" My father's voice was penetrating as a
knife-thrust. Judson staggered at it a little.

"Business, you know, management you couldn't understand. She's no hand
at money matters."

"So it seems," my father said dryly.

"But you'd not understand it. To resume. Folks'll say I'm trying to get
the whole thing, when all I really want is the girl, the girl now.
She'll not have much at best; and divided between her and her mother,
there'll be little left for Mrs. Whately to go on livin' on, with Mrs.
Judson's share taken out. Now, here's my point precisely, precisely. You
take the widder yourself. You need a wife, and Mrs. Whately's still
good-looking most ways. She was always a pretty, winsome-faced woman.

"You've got a plenty and getting more all the time. You could provide
handsome for her the rest of her life. You'd enjoy a second wife, an'
she'd be out of my way. You see it, don't you? I'll marry Marjie, an'
you marry her mother, kind of double wedding. Whew! but we'd make a fine
couple of grooms. What's in gray hair and baldness, anyhow? But there's
one thing I can't stand for. Gossip has begun to couple the name of your
boy with Miss Whately. Now he's just a very boy, only a year or two
older'n she, and nowise able to take care of her properly, you'll admit;
and it's silly. Besides, Conlow was telling me just an hour or more ago,
that Phil and Lettie was old-time sweethearts. I've nothing to do with
Phil's puppy love, however. I'm here to advise with you. Shall we clinch
the bargain now, or do you want to think about it a little while? But
don't take long. It's a little sudden maybe to you. It's been on my mind
since the day I got that memorial window in an' Marjory sang 'Lead
Kindly Light,' standing there in the light of it. It was a service for
my first wife sung by her that was to be my second, you might almost
say. Dr. Hemingway talked beautiful, too, just beautiful. But I've got
to go. Business don't bother you lawyers,"--he was growing very familiar
now,--"but us merchants has to keep a sharp eye to time. When shall I
call?" He rose briskly. "When shall I call?" he repeated.

My father rose up to his full height. His hands were clasped hard behind
his back. He did not lift his eyes to the expectant creature before him,
an