John Fenley was a prosperous lumberman, possessed of an affluent good nature which accorded well with his other surroundings in life. Virginia was his only child, and motherless. She could not remember that her father ever refused her anything in his life; and certainly he had never done so while smoking his after-dinner cigar. “Papa,” she began, in her pretty, deliberate way--“papa, Roderick Le Garde is in love with me.” Her father looked up at her keenly. She was not blushing, and she was not confused. He watched a smoke-ring dissolve, then answered, comfortably, “Well, there is nothing remarkable about that.” “That is true,” assented Virginia. “The remarkable thing is that I like him--a little.” Her eyes were fixed upon the fire. There was a pause before she went on. “I have never liked any of them at all before, as you know very well. I never expect to--very much. Papa, you afford me everything I want; can you afford me Roderick Le Garde?” “Do you know what you are asking, Virginia, or why?” he said, gravely. “I have thought it over, of course. Couldn’t you put him in charge at one of the mills or somewhere on a comfortable number of thousands a year? Of course I can’t starve, you know, and frocks cost something.” “My daughter is not likely to want for frocks,” said John Fenley, frowning involuntarily. “You did not take my meaning. I wish your mother were here, child.” “I am sufficiently interested, if that is what you mean,” said Virginia, still tranquilly. “He is different, papa; and I am tired of the _jeunesse dorée_. Perhaps it is because I am so much _dorée_ myself that they bore me. Roderick has enthusiasms and ideals; I am one of them; I like it. You, papa, love me for what I am. It is much more exciting to be loved for what one is not.” Her father knit his brows and smoked in silence for a few minutes. Virginia played with the ribbons of her pug. “Marylander, isn’t he?” “Something of the sort; I forget just what.” “H’m!” “Le Garde isn’t a business man,” John Fenley said, at length. “Isn’t he?” asked Virginia, politely smothering a yawn. “Is he? You know enough about it to know how important it is that any man who is to work into my affairs, and ultimately to take my place, should know business and mean business, Virgie. It is a long way from poverty to wealth, but a short one from wealth to poverty.” “Yes,” said Virginia, “I know; but I also know enough about it to be sure that I could manage the business if it became necessary. You and I are both business men, dear. Let us import a new element into the family.” Fenley laughed proudly. “By Jove! I believe you could do it!” A little further silence; then, “So your heart is set on this, daughter?” “Have I a heart?” asked Virginia, sedately, rising and leaning an elbow on the mantel as she held up one small, daintily slippered foot to the blaze. II