"If Barry & Co.," she went on, "should ever have a setback, they would simply deal out,"--she gestured as if dealing cards,--"deal out to the little people and make up their losses. That would be Barry & Co.'s way," she added proudly. Her father's next words were irrelevant, and came after a short silence. "I'm surprised that you give Bertram such a bad character. He is unconscious of offending you, I'm sure." "Oh, Daddy, dear, don't bother about that. I don't hate him, you understand. It's only that he is flint and perhaps I'm steel. At any rate, there are fireworks when we mingle in society." "Not flint at all, Linda. He loves you." "A queer sort of love, then. It isn't so much what he says, dear,"--Linda's cheeks were burning,--"it's that compelling--oh, sort of--well, compelling's the best word,--that always wants to--to guide me; and I won't be guided by anybody but you. I'll tell you what, Daddy, you haven't any son, and I'm going to be your son after this. If you're very good for two whole weeks after we get out to Colorado, and don't say one word about business, after that I'll get you to tell me all about your affairs, and I'll put my whole mind on understanding them. You know, Daddy, I have a good head for mathematics and for business generally,--truly I have. This isn't bluffing. If you'll take a little pains with me, you'll find Bertram isn't the only one you'll confide in. I think I'd like business. My heart isn't much to boast of, but my head, now, when it comes to my head--Thank Heaven, Bertram will be where he can't write to you about anything but fish. Mrs. Porter has persuaded him to go to Maine. Just think what she did, Daddy. She went off without saying a word to me. I went down to the studio and there was no one there but a caretaker, packing up. The calendar hadn't been torn off, so I tore off a leaf and wrote her a message on the date I was there. It's a calendar of Bible promises, and this one was, 'When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will take thee up.' I added something about her inhumanity in forsaking me." "Why--why,"--Mr. Barry's brow wrinkled,--"I'm afraid I've been remiss. I paid the bill for your lessons, and when she sent back the receipt she wrote something about having tried to get you on the 'phone, but that you were too popular, and that she was going East to tell your aunt that you were a good girl." "Then she has gone to the Cape!" exclaimed Linda, with interest. "I remember when Aunt Belinda was here at Christmas Mrs. Porter talked about it with her." "Yes," responded Mr. Barry, "and I think the plan is for Bertram to join her there if--when he can go." "Right away, won't he?" demanded Linda eagerly. "His doctor says--" "Yes, poor Bertram," said Mr. Barry slowly, "he does need it; but, little one,"--he patted Linda's hand slowly,--"we can't either of us go quite so soon as we expected." "Now, Father!" exclaimed the girl acutely.