"That is, if it would not be a makeshift. Another form of playing at life." "I can assure you that we will have to make it pay or go to the wall. My father would probably disinherit me, for it would be breaking another tradition, and he compliments me by believing that I am the best business man in the firm at present. "My only capital would be such of my fortune as is not tied up in the House--about a hundred thousand dollars in Government bonds. Of course, in time, if all goes well, and California does not have another setback--if business improves all over the world--I shall be able to take the rest of my money out, that I put into this end of the business after the fire; but that may be ten years hence. I shouldn't even ask for interest on it--that would be the only compensation I could offer for deserting the firm. "Perhaps I had better buy a cattle ranch. Then, if we fail, I shall at least have had the training of a cowboy and can hire out." Helene laughed and clapped her hands. "Fail? You? But I should help you to make it a success--I should be really necessary?" "Indispensable. Either you or another partner." "No! No! I shall be the partner--" "And you mean that you would be willing to bury your youth, your beauty, on a ranch? I have heard bitter confidences out here from women forced to waste their youth on a ranch. You are one of the fine flowers of civilization--" "That soon wither in the hothouse atmosphere. I wish to become a hardy annual. And when the ranch was running like a clock we could take a month or two in Europe every year or so--" "Rather! And I could show you off--Bother! I'll not answer." The telephone bell on the little table in the corner (his own private wire) rang so insistently that Ruyler finally was magnetized reluctantly across the room. He put the receiver to his ear and asked, "Well?" in his most inhospitable tones. The answer came in Spaulding's voice, and in a moment he sat down. At the end of ten minutes he hung the receiver on the hook and returned to find Helene standing by the window, all the light gone from her eyes, staring out at the hard brilliant scene with an expression of hopelessness that had relaxed the very muscles of her face. Ruyler was shocked, and more apprehensive than he had yet been. "Helene!" he exclaimed. "What is the matter? Surely you may confide in me if you are in trouble." "Oh, but I am not," she replied coldly. "Did I look odd? I was just wondering how many really happy people there were behind those lights--over on Belvedere, at Sausalito--the lights look so golden and steady and sure--and glimpses of interiors at night are always so fascinating--but I suppose most of the people are commonplace and just dully discontented--"