and cool-bloodedly. Would Olive be the right stepmother for the
boy? She was of good family, with influential connections. She made a
fine presence as a hostess. Her ambition was undoubted. Even the
trifling point of the similarity between Olive's name and that of his
boy impressed him, by some curious twist of mind, as favourable.

"Dad, look at me!" called out Olaf. "I've made some buoys, and now I'm
going to sail her round a racing course."

He had run needles through three corks, and planted them in the
pitch-seams of the deck to form the three points of a large triangle, in
imitation of the buoys of a yacht-race course.

"This buoy is Sandy Hook, and this one is the Fastnet, and that one over
there is Gibraltar."

"Good!" said the shipowner. "I'll time the race." He took out his watch.
"Are you ready?... Go!"

When the course was completed and the yacht lay at anchor again at Sandy
Hook, Larssen called his son to the seat at his side.

"Do you remember much of your mother?" he asked.

The boy's face clouded over. "I don't know. Sometimes I seem to see her
very plainly, and sometimes again I don't seem to see her at all when I
try to. Was mother very beautiful?"

"Very beautiful, to me," assented the shipowner.

"I think I should have loved her very much."

"How would you like to have a new mother?"

Olaf thought this over in silence for some time.

"It depends," he ventured at length.

"Depends on what?"

"I don't know. I must see her. Then I could tell you."

"You care for the idea?"

"I must see her first."

"Yes, that's right. Well, Sonny, as soon as we're in London I'll take
you to see her. But remember this: don't breathe a word of it to anyone.
Keep a tight mouth. That's what a business man has always got to learn."

"Why?"

"Because silence in the right place means big money."

Olaf reflected over the new problem for some time.

"Dad," he said presently, "I'd like her to like me very much. And I'd
like her to be a good sailor."

Larssen smiled at the naive requirement.

"Is that very important?"

"Yes. You see, I want her to live with us on a yacht, and some women are
so ill whenever they go on board a boat."

"Which do you like best: the country, or a big city, or the sea?"

"The sea--the sea! I hate a big city. The crowds of people make me
feel...." He groped about for a word which would express his feeling
" ... make me feel so lonely."

"You'll have to overcome that. On