"If it were only a question of money----" I began tentatively. "A question of money!" Mr. Parker interrupted. "Isn't everything a question of money? Say, what do you mean exactly?" "I mean that I admire your daughter, sir--I admire her immensely," I told him. "If she'd have me I'd marry her to-morrow, I am not what you would call a wealthy man, but I have enough money for all reasonable purposes." Mr. Parker was clearly staggered. He stroked his waistcoat for a moment in an absent sort of way. "This takes my breath away!" he exclaimed. "Let us understand exactly what it means." "It means," I told him bluntly, "that I'll make a settlement upon your daughter and give you enough to live on." He looked first at me and then at the carpet. He began to whistle softly. "And they always told me," he murmured under his breath, "that you Britishers were so cautious! Why, you know nothing about us at all except what I've told you, and goodness knows that isn't much of a recommendation! Besides, I may not have told you half!" "I am willing to take my risk," I declared. "I simply don't care. Once in a lifetime a man has that feeling for a woman. If he is wise he goes nap on it. I have never had it before and I am not going to let go. I feel that if I do I may regret it all my life. I don't want any other woman in this world except your daughter, and what I possess in life worth having I am willing to give to make sure of her." Mr. Parker sat for several moments in profound silence. I could not make out what his mood was, He seemed neither unduly depressed nor elated. He was obviously puzzled, however--puzzled to know precisely what to do or what to say. He sat in the middle of the divan with one thumb in his waistcoat pocket and the other hand flat upon the table. His round face was innocent of smile or frown. Yet I knew he was taking what I had said seriously, though for some reason or other it did not seem to give him unqualified pleasure. "Well, well!" he said at last. "You've spoken up like a man, anyway--and like a man who knows what he wants. I can't tell how to answer you. I have never lived on any one yet. Sponging's never been in my line. I have enjoyed living on my wits. And Eve--she's a little that way, too. Makes me kind of sorry I've let her go about with me so much. It's a wonderful cloak of respectability you'd throw over us; but I'm wondering whether it's large enough!" "As my wife--" I began.