"Mrs. Conway," she repeated, picking up a newspaper and writing on the margin. "Mrs. Keough, Mrs. Schweppe, Mrs. Cochrane." Georgia wrote on the newspaper after each name. "And mama," she added. She footed the total. "Those five women aggregate more than two hundred and fifty years," she bitterly exclaimed. "They're an advisory board, because they can only advise about life. They're past living it. And I--am just thirty. No, Father, I won't go on the board--yet." She was curiously resentful, as if she had received an insult. She walked quickly to the window and threw it open, looking out and turning her back to the priest until she might collect herself and control her strange agitation. "Very well," he answered gently, "I only hoped that it might please your mother." He took his hat in his hand and stood up. "Before I go," he said, "I think I should tell you that I have had news from your husband." He took a letter from his pocket and held it out toward her. "No--I won't read it, thank you." "He's on a farm in Iowa," the priest said, "I managed it. He's been doing hard work--and is much better." "Yes, he may raise himself up a little, and then just when people are beginning to hope for the hundredth time, he'll relapse and--wallow." "Yes, I am afraid sometimes he is hopeless." The despondency was plain in his voice. "He's quite hopeless. He's incurable. It's a disease; but it works slowly on him, like leprosy." "Do you think a drunkard is wholly to blame--for his malady!" "Oh," said Georgia, "I'm not sure that anyone's ever to blame for anything. It just happens, that's all." Mrs. Plew knocked and half opened the door. "That young man's back," she said, "shall I show him in?" Before Georgia could answer Stevens came into the room. Without greeting of any kind, in rapid, mechanical words, as if he had learned his piece by heart, he explained his abrupt coming. "I have received a business offer," he began, "which if I accept will take me away from America for a term of years. It is to superintend, on behalf of Mr. Silverman, the reorganization of certain life companies along modern American lines in South America. Headquarters, Rio de Janiero, Brazil. I have come for your advice, and your advice will govern. Shall I or shall I not accept the offer?" He stopped abruptly, looking at her with a harsh, almost savage expression, as he waited for her reply. "You know what I mean," he burst out. "Answer me yes or no." "You know Father Hervey, Mr. Stevens," she said coolly. "I think I have heard of you before, Mr. Stevens," the priest bowed slightly. "And I have heard of you," answered the young man bitterly. He turned to Georgia. "Answer me," he repeated, "yes or no." "If it is an advantageous offer from a business point of view," she said gently, "I think you should go, Mason."