He grew more intent when she sang again. It was a ballad of toil and endeavor, and the girl had caught its feeling. Andrew wondered whether she had chosen it by accident, for the words chimed with his mood, and he was stirred and carried away as he listened. Obscure feelings deep in his nature throbbed in quick response. After wasted years of lounging, he had plunged into the struggle of life and become a citizen of the strenuous world. Ingenuous as he was, some of his lost youthful fervor awoke again; he would never sink back into his former state of slothful ease; bruised, beaten perhaps, he must go on. The duty to which he had long been blind now burned like a beacon through the mists ahead. Yet it was no evanescent, romantic sentiment. Andrew was a solid and matter-of-fact person. When Geraldine closed the piano he rose and looked at her with a gleam in his eyes. "Thank you; I mean it sincerely," he said. "It's a very fine song." "It's stirring," she replied. "I dare say it's true--one would like to think so." There was some color in her face, and his heart throbbed at the knowledge that she had meant the song for him. Then Frobisher broke in humorously: "That kind of thing appeals more to young folk. When one gets to my age, one would rather be soothed. We've had enough of the rough-and-tumble scuffle; it's time to retire from the ring and sit comfortably in a front seat, looking on." "It would soon get tiresome," declared Geraldine. "You would want to take a side and instruct the combatants," she added with an affectionate smile. "The temptation would be irresistible if somebody whom you thought didn't deserve it were getting badly hurt." "I don't know. Interfering is a dangerous habit, and people aren't always grateful." Frobisher's glance rested for a moment on his guest. "However, I might still step into the ring if the provocation were very strong." Then they engaged in casual talk until it got late, and when Geraldine and her father wished him goodnight Andrew said diffidently: "I'm grateful to you for keeping me here. I'll go back feeling brighter than when I came." He left them and Frobisher looked after him with a humorous expression. "That young man has chosen a hard row to hoe, though I don't think he quite sees all he's up against. It's safer to take a bone from a hungry dog than to do a business man out of the pickings he thinks he's entitled to, especially if he's engaged in floating companies." "But that is part of your business." "Sure!" said Frobisher. "It's wiser to speak of the things you know. I've picked up one or two good bones." "But you had a right to them," Geraldine declared confidently. Frobisher's eyes twinkled.