"I thought Chrissy’s tale of woe was sufficient for one morning, but here you come galloping in with one that beats hers to a batter! How do you suppose I like it? I expected to have my children with me for a while.... Yesterday you were in the cradle.... To-day you’re up and off and out into the world with a girl I never saw before last June! Jack! Jack! what the devil’s the matter with everything!" "Isn’t everything about as it was when you were my age, father?" "No, it isn’t. If anybody had predicted these times, he’d have been locked up for a lunatic! What with luxury, and fashions, and folderol, and high finance, and cards, and cocktails, and cigarettes——" "I don’t mean the details, dad; but isn’t it all about the same—the birth, growth, courtship, parting? Isn’t it?" The older man was silent. Jack rose and stood by the window watching the big clouds drifting across the sky. "Jack," said his father, "why did you come here to tell me this?" "Mother said I had better." "Your _mother_!" he exclaimed, horrified. "Yes; I told her first, of course—even before I spoke to Silvette." "She never said—one—word to me," murmured Rivett vacantly. "She promised not to before I would tell her." "Do you mean to say that your mother _approves_?" "She said she would if you did.... And all I ask of you is to invite Silvette to overlook what I’ve said and done, and request her to remain." "If she doesn’t care for you," said Mr. Rivett, "what do you want her to remain for?" Jack’s eye met his father’s. "So that I can have a chance to win her," he said doggedly, "with my parents’ full approval." Rivett rose, furious. "You stay here until I’ve talked to your mother!" he barked, and went out slamming the door. Jack sat down prepared to wait, but it was not five minutes before his father came in. "I’ve seen your mother. Clear out of here! That young lady of yours is coming." "Here?" "Yes, here. If you don’t go out, I’ll drop you out of the window—old as I am." "Dad! You’re a brick!" "Well, you’ll get that brick in the neck if you don’t hustle!" Jack laughed and held out his hand; his father took it, tried to speak—only succeeded in swearing. The boy went out. When the girl entered, Mr. Rivett was standing by the window, wiping his glasses for the second time that morning. He turned, nodded, placed a chair for Silvette, but remained standing. "I don’t suppose you’ve any notion why I’ve asked you to come in here. Have you?" "Not the slightest," she said, smiling. "I suppose you think it’s on business?" "Naturally." "Why naturally." "Because," said Silvette, laughing, "our relations are on a business basis." "Do you consider them entirely so?" "I—am obliged to, am I not?" "Don’t you like us?" he asked bluntly. "What an odd question! Of course, I do. I’m in love with your wife." "_Not_ with me?" She laughed gayly. "You’ve evidently discovered that Diana and I like you immensely." "Do you? Really?"