accident, but I had to consider everything
and I saw how to turn it to account. So, if you are going to give a
subscription for John Grier you must do as he would do."

Carnac smiled, put the paper on his desk, and took the pen.

"Make it measure the hate John Grier has to the Belloc firm," she said
ironically.

Carnac chuckled and wrote. "Will that do?" He handed her the paper.

"One hundred and fifty dollars--oh, quite, quite good!" she said. "But
it's only a half hatred after all. I'd have made it a whole one."

"You'd have expected John Grier to give two hundred, eh? But that would
have been too plain. It looks all right now, and it must go at that."

She smiled. "Well, it'll go at that. You're a good business man. I see
you've given up your painting and sculping to do this! It will please
your father, but are you satisfied?"

"Satisfied--of course, I'm not; and you know it. I'm not a
money-grabber. I'm an artist if I'm anything, and I'm not doing this
permanently. I'm only helping my father while he's in a hole."

The girl suddenly grew serious. "You mean you're not going to stick to
the business, and take Fabian's place in it? He's been for a week with
Belloc and he's never coming back here. You have the brains for it; and
you could make your father happy and inherit his fortune--all of it."

Carnac flushed indignantly. "I suppose I could, but it isn't big enough
for me. I'd rather do one picture that the Luxembourg or the London
National Gallery would buy than own this whole business. That's the turn
of my mind."

"Yes, but if you didn't sell a picture to the Luxembourg or the National
Gallery. What then?"

"I'd have a good try for it, that's all. Do you want me to give up Art
and take to commerce? Is that your view?"

"I suggested to John Grier the day that Fabian sold his share that you
might take his place; and I still think it a good thing, though, of
course, I like your painting. But I felt sorry for your father with none
of his own family to help him; and I thought you might stay with him for
your family's sake."

"You thought I'd be a martyr for love of John Grier--and cold cash, did
you? That isn't the way the blood runs in my veins. I think John Grier
might get out of the business now, if he's tired, and sell it and let
some one else run it. John Grier is not in want. If he were, I'd give
up everything to help him, and I'd not think I was a martyr. But I've a
right to make my own career. I