“Thank you,” she said. “Please be seated.” He was not long in introducing the real object of his visit, but approached the subject with more caution than before. He spoke of Mr. Kemper’s great fondness for her and his fatherly pride in her, and the determination he had been frequently heard to express, that if he could prevent it his darling should never know what it was to want for the comforts and even luxuries of life. “Yes,” murmured Floy, the tears stealing down her pale cheeks, “father loved me very dearly, and was always tenderly careful of me.” “And can you believe that he would want the property he accumulated to be enjoyed by some one else, and you left to struggle with poverty?” asked Mr. Alden. “No; oh no, no!” “Ah!” There was a world of meaning in the slight exclamation. It said, “So you are coming to your senses at last! you see now that I was right, and I’m delighted that such is the case.” “Do not mistake me, Mr. Alden,” said the girl, sighing. “I am certain father would have preferred to leave me well provided for, but he may have finally concluded that it would be more just to leave his property to those who were related to him by ties of blood.” Emotion stopped her utterance; she had not yet learned to think and speak calmly of the fact that there was no natural tie between herself and those who had been as the dearest of parents to her. “Nonsense!” was the angry exclamation that rose to Mr. Alden’s lips; but checking himself, he said in a tone of mild expostulation, “I am sure, my dear child, you need not trouble yourself with any such fears. He made every cent of his money, and certainly had a perfect right to leave it as he pleased. And there is not the least doubt in my mind that you would be following out his wishes in retaining possession of it. Indeed I think it would be very wrong as well as foolish to do otherwise.” “Why wrong?” “Because it would be disposing of his property as he would not have wished it to be disposed of.” “Ah, Mr. Alden, suppose you were his next of kin, would you not see this matter differently?” “Well--possibly our own interests are very apt to blind us to the rights of others.” Floy smiled faintly, thinking how nearly akin to a man’s own interest was that of his son. “Yes,” she said, “that is human nature; we are naturally selfish, I as well as others; so much so that if I knew the property was lawfully mine I should never think of giving it away.” “Then don’t.” “Ah, it is not mine to give or to keep, but must go to the rightful heirs.” Mr. Alden bit his lips with vexation, rose and paced the room for some moments; then, having recovered control of himself, came and sat down by Floy. “I know you want to do right,” he said pleasantly, “and I have only to convince you that the course I wish you to take is right to induce you to take it.” “I cannot tell you how gladly I should do so,” she answered.