d it hung a portrait
of his little boy by Sargent.

"It's almost a throne-room!" was Olive's exclamation of wonder.

Larssen smiled his pleasure. It _was_ a throne-room. He had designed it
as such. His private house at Hampstead mattered little to him. His
house on Riverside Drive, New York, and his great forest estate in the
Adirondacks mattered almost as little. His real home was at the office.

"In my New York office, and in every one of my other offices round the
world, there's a room like this. I alone use it. When I'm away, it
stands for me. It's my sign."

"Above there," he continued, pointing to the central dome, "is the
wireless apparatus which keeps me in touch with my ships. From ship to
ship and office to office I can send my orders round the world. I'm
independent of the wires and the cables."

"That's epic!" she said, using the word she had used before when he
spoke to her of his early career. No other word fitted Lars Larssen so
closely.

"Heard from Clifford lately?" he queried.

"Only a brief cable from Winnipeg."

"I had a letter telling me things are going well, but not as quickly as
he expected. That letter would be a week old by now. Every moment I'm
expecting to hear that his work is put through and sealed up tight."

"I'm not anxious to have him back. If you only could realize how he
bores me to extinction."

She waited for an expression of sympathy.

"You've borne with it very bravely," he said, knowing that to a woman
like Olive no compliment is dearer than to be called "brave."

"Not that I want to say a word against Clifford," he added quickly.
"He's a very clever man of business, and I admire him for it. But a
woman wants more than cleverness."

"How well you understand!" said Olive. "So few know me as I really am.
If only we had met before----"

She stopped abruptly as a door opened at the farther end of the room.
Morris Sylvester entered briskly with a telegram in his hand. As
confidential secretary, it was his duty to open all telegrams and most
of the letters addressed to his chief. Sylvester passed the open
telegram to Larssen, saying:

"Excuse my interruption. This telegram just arrived seems important. I
thought you would like to see it."

"Thanks." Larssen glanced over it. "No answer necessary."

Sylvester withdrew.

"It's a wire from your gay brother-in-law," said Larssen to Olive.

"From John Riviere! Where is he?"

"In London. He proposes to call on me to-