ost empires--to discover beauty in hideousness because
somebody else pretends to do so--to mumble praises about frescoes which
are frightful to look at, and break your neck besides--to have profound
emotions in Jerusalem and experience awe before pyramids and sphinxes.
This fictitious life we have been leading is very elegant, no doubt, and
gives one material for just criticisms, but, strictly between us, I
think it dreadfully tiresome. I shall never go into it again. I suppose
my little girl will want to go abroad now that she can do what she
chooses, but I shall let you take care of her, Floyd."

I laughed. "You will find Helen a magnificent young lady by this time,"
I returned. "She is seventeen, is she not? A good many men will fight
for the pleasure of showing her about, and likely as not she will not
look at me."

"She is as old as her mother was when I married her," said Mr. Floyd
thoughtfully. "Can it be that people will want to be marrying my little
girl? I want her all to myself for a time. Who knows how long? I have
been a lonely man, and now I want close, intimate human companionship. I
am tired of doing, I am tired of thinking. I am out of politics: I am
ready for enjoyment. It seems to me I can be very happy with Helen and
your mother close at hand. We shall not be a dreary family. Your mother
and I can sit together and talk: you and Helen can have your little
amusements. Now that she is to be quite unrestricted, I hope and expect
a little nonsense from her."

"But, sir--" I began hesitatingly.

"But what, pray?"

"You cannot believe that we are all to live together. It is time for me
to make a beginning in life, and my mother must be with me."

"You have made a very handsome beginning," returned Mr. Floyd dryly.
"Once for all, Floyd, I will have no nonsense of independence and pride
from you. You are to me as my own son. I may talk much of Helen, because
our love for women is of the kind that gives us the impulse to proclaim
it, but she is scarcely more dear to me than you are. You are part of my
life now: don't fret me and make me miserable by deserting me. Be as
free as air and follow out every wish of your heart, yet, all the same,
feel that your home is where my home is, your interests where mine are."

As soon as we landed we had news of my mother having joined Helen at The
Headlands shortly after Mr. Raymond's death. Mr. Floyd wasted not an
hour in New York, but went on to his daughter at onc