ld have let me write, Ernest. I might have given myself a fair
show, I think." Dick's voice was bitter.

"I did you no harm in the long run, Dick, old man," said Ernest,
eagerly. "Just bear with me for a while."

"Ernie, you always were an old butter-in," cried Elsa angrily. "As if I
weren't perfectly capable of managing my own affairs. Now you've ruined
everything. Papa, I am going to marry Dick. Mamma, you will love him."

"Wait, Elsa, wait," exclaimed Ernest.

But Papa could not wait. "Marry a Preble!" he roared. "Marry a drunkard,
the son of a drunkard! Oh, don't try to hush me, Mamma! You know you're
just as anxious about the matter as I am. I had the Dean look Dick
Preble up. His record in college was that of a drunken rounder. His
father drank the old farm up, you remember that, Roger."

"I remember folks said so, but all I know and all I want to know about
Dick is what he is now. He's a new man and a mighty fine one."

"Impossible! His father--"

Dick jumped to his feet, but Charley spoke first. "Leave our father
absolutely out of this, Mr. Wolf, if you please. He's not here to defend
himself. Dick is."

"Impossible!" roared Papa Wolf.

Charley crossed the room swiftly and standing in all the dignity of her
good height and her quiet beauty, she looked down on Papa Wolf.

"I am telling you," she did not raise her voice, "not to include my
father or my mother in this conversation. My brother and I stand on our
own reputations and no one else's."

Papa Wolf swallowed two or three times. "But inheritance," he said
feebly.

"Nobody inherits the drink habit," returned Charley, disdainfully. "You
can inherit a weak will but not a habit. Dick drank because he thought
he was going to die and he went the pace, thinking like other fool men
that he was living life to the full, in that way. By the time he had
been cured of his illness, he had the drink appetite. But he's cured of
that now."

"How do you know?" asked Papa Wolf, belligerently.

"Because I know," replied Charley, shortly, returning to her chair,
while Dick and Elsa stared at her, astonishment and gratitude both
struggling in their faces.

"Well, do I want my daughter to marry a man who's been a bum, eh? Do you
think I, Karl Wolf--"

"Hold on, Mr. Wolf," interrupted Dick. "I never was a bum. Drink was my
failing. I've always, with Charley's help, paid my own way. I have a
real business down here now. Elsa loves the desert life and she loves