“My aunt, as I told you, Mr. Abercrombie, is not well. She begs you to allow her one more hour of rest before coming down. Helen is driving with Mr. Lanbury. Shall I take you to your room, or would you rather sit here? Smoking is not forbidden in my aunt’s house. May I?” Kit offered Mr. Abercrombie his cigar case. “I’ll wait here till Helen comes. I suppose Lanbury will return with her? I’d like to bless them personally as soon as possible; I have blessed them by telegraph and mail.” The ex-governor took a cigar, cut its tip, and looked at Kit with humorous eyes as he spoke. “I’m told that you didn’t want to marry my girl!” he continued, to Kit’s chagrin. “Yet she’s a handsome creature and clever. Helen conveys to me the impression that you understood that she and your aunt approved of your marrying her, but that you would rather have a certain pretty little person of whom their estimate is not high. Helen is emancipated; she would make her opinions clear to you, if I know her! She surely is a princess, and if you were my son I should have done everything possible to push your fortunes. What is the reason you were so obdurate, Master Kit? As it’s settled, you need not answer unless you wish. I’m simply curious.” Kit looked up with a frank laugh and a blush that pleased Helen’s father. “You see I loved Miss Dallas and didn’t love your splendid Helen, Mr. Abercrombie,” he said. “I suppose it does seem stupid to you, but wait till you see Miss Dallas! I think a man of your experience would admire her, and say she’s a girl to love.” Mr. Abercrombie smiled down at the tip of his cigar as he knocked off its ashes with his little finger. “I don’t find your attitude blameworthy, Kit,” he said. He was silent for a moment, then he looked up with a shadow in his eyes. “I had my dream, too, Christopher. I didn’t marry the girl; perhaps it’s as well, but there’s always a lurking doubt about a lost joy. She was a mighty sweet, fine girl, with something in her charm I never saw in any other woman. I suppose that’s common to all first love. I married well; wisely, don’t you see? It was a comfortable marriage. But I’m not so sure wise marriages are always wholly wise. I’m not inclined to condemn you for following your star. In fact, it has delighted me to find you the man your boyhood promised you’d be. I was greatly pleased to learn how loyally you stood by your colours. I shall do my best to talk your aunt over to our side. Helen is the twentieth-century jewel, fit in every way to hold her own. But if you love your unambitious girl, go ahead and marry her, and tell the world and the flesh to go to the devil! I’ll do what I can to help you to business success, so don’t worry, Kit.” Kit had sat listening to this long speech, his extinct cigar forgotten in his hand, amazement growing at each word. When Mr. Abercrombie ended Kit cried: