"I believe there was a difference of opinion on the point, but I'd got my teeth in first. However, I'll admit that unless Allinson was convinced the bone belonged to him he'd let it go. That's the kind of man he is, and he's not likely to grow more prudent if you let him see that you agree with him." "Do you think I've done so?" Geraldine asked. "I don't know," Frobisher smiled. "It seems possible; but I've no doubt your intentions were excellent. You're a bit of an idealist. However, the fellow will do you credit. He has sense and grit, though he's what one might perhaps call superfluously honest." "How could his virtues reflect any credit on me?" Geraldine retorted. "Besides, your cynicism is assumed. I don't believe you ever took a dollar you were not entitled to. Why do you always make a joke of things?" "It's true that my ventures have generally paid a dividend, but I've a suspicion that it was a lucky accident that one or two of them did so. When I was young, I was as serious as Mr. Allinson, but people sometimes grow more humorous as they get older. They don't expect so much and they learn to make allowances." "That's a mistake," said Geraldine. "I should never be content with the mediocre." She left him with a smile, but Frobisher looked thoughtful as he lighted a last cigar. He had led a strenuous life, stubbornly struggling upward from a humble beginning, and the years of effort had tried him hard. He had taken big risks, and exacted every dollar he could, but after all he did not think he had wronged anyone badly. Now that he had acquired power and influence, he regarded human nature with whimsical forbearance, but he was glad that his daughter seemed to demand conformity with higher standards, thought she was free from the cant and prudery he hated. Then he thought of Allinson, for whom he had a warm liking. He had fought many a stern battle before he was Allinson's age, but this did not make him contemptuous. Allinson was late in beginning, but he showed a determination and, what was more remarkable, a sagacity that pleased Frobisher well. Besides this, the purity of his motives and his fastidious honesty roused the American's admiration. Frobisher would not have embarked on a long struggle for a principle, but he could respect a man who did so. Allinson and Geraldine had apparently the same ideals, they had rapidly fallen into confidential terms--but that was a subject on which it was premature to speculate. Andrew left the house the next day, and on entering his hotel in the afternoon he found Mappin sitting in the unoccupied general-room. He laid down his newspaper as Andrew came in and looked up with a truculent expression in his heavy face. "I got your letter at Fort William as I was coming here," he said. "It seemed to need an explanation. What d'you mean by giving me warning to quit?" His tone was offensive, but Andrew sat down quietly, knowing it was desirable to keep cool.