uit you, Harry?" she asked soberly; "just gallivanting?"

"You know it would not. You know I want no vacation lasting all my
life, nor does any real man. You know it was yourself that forced me
out of my man's place and robbed me of my greatest right."

"Yes," said she, "a man's place is to fight and to work. It's the
same to-day. But," she added, "you ran away; and you lost."

"But am I not trying to recoup my fortune, Helena? You see, I have
already acquired a yacht, although but a few weeks ago I started in
the world with scarcely more than my bare hands. Could Monte Cristo
have done more?"

"It isn't money a woman wants in a man."

"What is it, then?"

"I don't know," said she. "Oh, come, we mustn't go to arguing these
things all over again! I'm weary of it. And certainly Aunt Lucinda and
I both are weary of our hat box yonder. That's what I asked you, how
long?"

"As long as I like, Helena, you and your Aunt Lucinda shall dwell
there. What would you say to three years or so?"

She seemed not to hear. "I believe I've found a four leaf clover,"
said she.

"Much good fortune may it bring you."

"Let me try my fortune," said she, and began plucking off the leaves.
"He loves me, he loves me not; he loves me, he loves me not."

"There!" she said, holding up the naked stem triumphantly; "I knew
it."

"It would be a fairer test, had you a daisy, Helena," said I, "or
something with more leaves; not that I know whose has been this
ordeal. Suppose it were myself, and that you tried this one." I handed
her a trefoil, but she waved it aside.

"I will try to find you a four leaf clover for your own, after a
while," said she, and bobbed me a very pretty courtesy. Angered, I
caught at the stick I was carrying with so sudden a grip that I broke
it in two.

"I did not know your hands were so strong, Harry," said she.

"Would they were stronger!" was my retort. "And were I in charge of
the affairs of Providence, the first thing I would do would be to
wring the neck of every woman in the world."

"And then set out to put them together again, Harry? Don't be silly."

"Oh, yes, naturally. But you must admit, Helena, that women have no
sense of reason whatever. For instance, if you really were trying out
the fortune of some man on a daisy's head, you would not accept the
decree of fate, any more than you could tell why you loved him or
loved him not. Why does a woman love a man, Helena? You say I must not
be silly-