d, carrying a pile of manuscript. He took the
paper from him without speaking, and glanced at the first sheet on which
Henry had written in a large, clear hand:

DRUSILLA: A NOVEL
BY
HENRY QUINN.

and then he turned the page and read what was written on the second
sheet:

TO
MY FATHER

He looked at the dedication for a longer time than he had looked at the
title-page, and his hand trembled a little as he held the paper.

"I thought you wouldn't mind, father!" Henry said.

"Mind!" Mr. Quinn replied. "No, I don't, Henry. I ... I like it, my son.
Thanks, Henry. I ..." He got up and moved quickly towards the window.
"I'll just go in an' start readin' it now," he said.

2

He returned the manuscript to Henry on the following afternoon. "I've
read worse," he said.

He walked to the end of the terrace and then walked back again. Then he
shouted for William Henry Matier, who came running to him. He pointed to
a daisy on the lawn and asked the gardener what the hell he meant by not
keeping the weeds down.

"Ah, sure, sir!..."

"Root the damn thing up," Mr. Quinn shouted at him, "an' don't let me
see another about the place or I'll shoot the boots off you! I don't
know under God what I keep you for!"

"Now, you don't mean the half you say, sir!..."

"You're not worth ninepence a week!"

"Aw, now," said Matier, who knew his master, "I'm worth more'n that,
sir!"

"How much are you worth? Tell me that, William Henry Matier!"

William Henry rooted up the daisy, and then said that he wouldn't like
to put too high a price on himself....

"You'd be a fool if you did," Mr. Quinn interrupted.

" ... but I'd mebbe be worth about double what you named yourself, sir!"

"Eighteenpence!" Mr. Quinn exclaimed.

"Aye, that or a bit more. Were you wantin' anything else, sir!" He
winked heavily at Henry as he turned away.

"You're not worth the food you eat," Mr. Quinn said.

"Aw, now, sir, you never know what anybody's worth 'til you have need of
them," Matier replied. "A man mightn't be worth a damn to you one day,
an' he'd mebbe be worth millions to you the next!"

"There's little fear of you bein' worth millions to any one. Run on now
an' do your work if you've any work to do!" Mr. Quinn turned to Henry as
the gardener went off. "I suppose you'll be wantin' to live in London
for the rest of your life?"

"I should like to go there for a while anyway, father!"

"Huh! All you writin' people seem to t