. But it was a
strong, commanding face in spite of the pouched eyes and the drooping
flesh about the jaws and chin. Daisy, busy with her book-keeping, looked
up and smiled, with her strong instinct for friendliness.

The gentleman removed his hat. Most of his head was bald. "You'll be
Miss Obloski," he said. "The top o' the mornin' to you, miss. My boy has
often spoken of you. I call him my boy bekase he's been like a son to
me--like a son. Is Linnevitch in? Never mind, I know the way."

He opened, without knocking upon it, the door which led from the
restaurant into the Linnevitches' parlor. Evidently a great man. And how
beautifully and touchingly he had spoken of Barstow! Daisy returned to
her addition. Two and three are six and seven are twelve and four are
nineteen. Then she frowned and tried again.

The great man was a long time closeted with Linnevitch. She could hear
their voices, now loud and angry, now subdued. But she could not gather
what they were talking about.

At length the two emerged from the parlor--Linnevitch flushed, red,
sullen, and browbeaten; the stranger grandly at ease, an unlighted cigar
in his mouth. He took off his hat to Daisy, bent his brows upon her with
an admiring glance, and passed out into the sunlight.

"Who was it?" said Daisy.

"That," said Linnevitch, "is Cullinan, the boss--Bull Cullinan. Once he
was a policeman, and now he is a millionaire."

There was a curious mixture of contempt, of fear, and of adulation in
Linnevitch's voice.

"He is come here," he said, "to tell me about that young feller."

"Oh!" exclaimed Daisy. "Mr. Barstow?"

Linnevitch did not meet her eye. "I am wrong," he said, "and that young
feller is O. K."

When Daisy came back from her first dancing lesson, Mr. and Mrs.
Linnevitch were sitting up for her. Her gayety and high spirits seemed
to move the couple, especially Linnevitch, deeply. He insisted that she
eat some crackers and drink a glass of milk. He was wonderfully gentle,
almost tender, in his manner; but whenever she looked at him he looked
away.

VI

It was as if heaven had opened before Daisy. The blood in her veins
moved to the rhythm of dance music; her vision was being fed upon color
and light. And, for she was still a child, she was taken great wonders
to behold: dogs that rode upon bicycles, men who played upon fifty
instruments, clowns that caused whole theatres to roar with laughter,
ladies that dove from dizzy heights, bea