“I shall have to congratulate Guy on not snoring. But suppose,” Briggs continued, confidentially, “suppose I should tell you that sometimes he did snore?” Fanny tossed back her head. “Well, that wouldn’t make any difference, either. Come to think of it, if Guy had snored this morning, his snoring would have been nice. Funny about love, isn’t it, Uncle Doug?” Fanny added, pensively. “What is?” “It makes everything nice.” “In the one you love, you mean?” Fanny nodded. “M’m--h’m!” “Then you’re really in love with Guy?” Fanny danced away. “Oh, I didn’t say that.” “Fanny,” said Briggs, gently. Fanny edged toward the table. “Well?” She still kept out of reach. “Come over here,” Briggs urged. Fanny stood at her uncle’s side, with one hand on the desk; Briggs let his hand rest on hers. “If you and Guy are really in love with each other, I have a bit of advice to give you.” “Oh, you’re going to tell me how foolish it is to get married, aren’t you? That’s the way married people always talk.” Briggs smiled and shook his head. “No, I don’t mean that.” “Well? Wait till Guy gets rich, I suppose.” Fanny sighed. “Then I know I shall die an old maid!” “No, I don’t mean that, either.” “What do you mean, then?” Fanny said, severely. “Make him give up the foolish notion he has of going into politics.” “Oh, Uncle Doug!” Fanny exclaimed, reproachfully. “Guy is a good, clean-hearted young fellow. You don’t want him to become cynical and hypocritical and deceitful, do you? You don’t want him to believe there’s no such thing as unselfishness in the world, that whenever a man turns his hand he expects to be paid for it ten times over?” Fanny looked with astonishment at her uncle. “Well, what in the world is the matter with you?” she said, after a moment. Briggs patted her hand. “There, there! I won’t preach any more. But I mean what I say.” When Fanny spoke again there were tears in her voice. “Isn’t he a good secretary?” “Oh, yes, good enough.” “You’re mad because he’s staying in bed so late.” “Nonsense! I told Michael myself not to call him. He’s worked himself to death during the past few weeks. I had to fight for my renomination, you know.” “You did?” said Fanny, with a change of tone. “Why, I thought you were the most popular man in New York.” “Well, the most popular men have enemies,” Briggs replied, grimly. Fanny suddenly became affectionate, almost pathetic. “And I never congratulated you! I was so sure you’d be nominated--why, I took it as a matter of course.” Briggs looked away. “Yes, you women folks always do,” he said, bitterly. “It is only the disappointments in life that you don’t take as matters of course.” Fanny clapped her hands. “Uncle Doug, now I know what the trouble is. You haven’t had any breakfast. Dad’s always as cross as two sticks till he’s had his.” “Yes, I have. I’m tired, that’s all. Now, run along, like a good girl. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”