"You're the stunningest thing on horseback that was ever seen," she went on, "and the only time you'll be out of the saddle is when you're in bed." Silence. "Why don't you say something?" she mumbled against his hair. "Did you know I was good-looking?" she added after a pause, lifting her head and squeezing him. "Yes, child." "Oh, Father, don't be so meek! Say something nice and impudent, or I'll think you're _too_ tired, and take you away to-morrow. I was leading up tactfully to thanking you for being the best-looking man in Chicago so your daughter could have a nice nose." She burrowed the feature into his thick hair, and kissed it again. "You're my darling girl," he said soberly. "You've been a joy to me ever since you were born." "Hurrah for us!" ejaculated Linda. "I've been no kind of a joy compared to what I'm going to be. Now I have all this school business off my hands, I'm going to trail you--just dog your footsteps. Now, don't say that I won't be near so much of a joy that way, because I can think of more ways to make you have a good time than you dream of now!" "You aren't the sort of girl who stays with Father long." "Do you mean marriage? My dear sir, don't you know that handsome girls are far less apt to marry than the nice, commonplace, cozy ones with turn-up noses? I admit coyly that I'm something of a peach, but I'm going to stay with you." "Have you ever thought,"--the question came gravely,--"have you ever thought of--Bertram?" Color mounted richly over the face against the gray hair. "Thought of him! I should say so! The most critical, disagreeable, _nosey_ man; always interfering and--and trying to make people over into his mold. It never occurs to him that his ideas could be anything less than perfection." "I'm surprised to hear you speak so," came the monotonous voice, "and disappointed too." "Father, dear, don't! You make me sad! When I know you've come into this tired condition, just working for me,--that's one of the pleasant things Bertram said to me to-night." "He was wrong. It wasn't working for you, Linda. Remember that. Money-making gets to be a disease. A millionaire should be satisfied; but the multi-millionaires are ahead of him, and the game is exciting." There was no excitement in the colorless voice. "Mere prosperity palls. He takes chances, hoping and expecting to do great things for himself and every one involved with him. There's the pinch. He should never allow others to take chances with him. That's criminal." "Oh, well." Linda opposed a light tone to what she considered the morbidity of over-fatigue. Her heart reproached her for not having seen the symptoms long ago. She should have thrown up college and taken her dear one away long ago. Resentment against King again flared up in her. His had been daily companionship with her father. How could he have let it come to this!