Celia," he said smiling, "that young man--cousin of
yours--Berkley, turned up promptly to-day. I gave him a room in
the office."

"That was certainly ve'y frien'ly of you, Curt!" she responded
warmly. "You _will_ be patient with him, won't you?"

"I've had to be already. I gave him a commission to collect some
rents and he came back fifty dollars short, calmly explaining that
one of our lodgers looked poor and he hated to ask for the rent."

"O Curt--the boy is ve'y sweet and wa'm-hearted. Were you cross
with him?"

"Not very. I imparted a few plain truths--very pleasantly, Celia.
He knew better; there's a sort of an impish streak in him--also an
inclination for the pleasant by-ways of life. . . . He had better
let drink alone, too, if he expects to remain in my office. I told
him that."

"Does he--the foolish baby!"

"Oh, probably not very much. I don't know; he's likable, but--he
hasn't inspired me with any overwhelming respect and confidence.
His record is not exactly savoury. But he's your protege, and I'll
stand him as long as you can."

"Thank you, Curt. We must be gentle to him. I shall ask him to
dinner and we can give a May dance perhaps--something informal and
pretty--What is the matter, Curt?"

"Nothing, dear. . . . Only I wouldn't plan anything just yet--I
mean for the present--not for a few days, anyway----"

He shrugged, removed his glasses, polished them on his
handkerchief, and sat holding them, his short-sighted eyes lost in
reverie.

His wife endured it to the limit of patience:

"Curt," she began in a lower voice, "you and I gen'ally avoid
certain matters, dear--but--ev'ything is sure to come right in the
end--isn't it? The No'th is going to be sensible."

"In the--end," he admitted quietly. And between them the ocean
sprang into view again.

"I wonder--" She stopped, and an inexplicable uneasiness stirred in
her breast. She looked around at her son, her left hand fell
protectingly upon his shoulder, her right, groping, touched her
husband's sleeve.

"I am--well cared for--in the world," she sighed happily to
herself. "It shall not come nigh me."

Stephen was saying to Ailsa:

"There's a piece of up-town property that came into the office
to-day which seems to me significant of the future. It would be a
good investment for you, Cousin Ailsa. Some day Fifth Avenue will
be built up solidly with brown-stone mansions as far as the Central
Park. It is all going t