“But, Guy, dear, I thought you got ever so much more than that! You poor thing! Why, I spend twice as much as that myself, and I’m always sending home for more.” “Well, I can’t help it if I’m not rich,” Guy grumbled, keeping his face turned from her. Fanny inspected him carefully, as if taking an inventory. “Do you know what dad would do?” she asked. Guy knew that her eyes were on him; but he refused to look at her. “Eh?” he said. “If you told him how much you were earning,” Fanny explained. “Oh, he’d faint away, I suppose!” Fanny shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t,” she replied, sadly. “He’d just laugh that big laugh of his. He has enormous teeth. Remember ’em? It’s fascinating to watch ’em. His sense of humor is awful!” Guy sighed. “I suppose I might as well give you up,” he said, remembering vaguely that he had read of a young and interesting lover who used that speech on a similar occasion. “Well, I guess not!” Fanny exclaimed. Then she clasped her hands over her mouth. “Oh, I s’pose I do kind of like you.” “Why don’t you treat me better, then?” he asked pathetically. Fanny lowered her head and looked up at him with mournful eyes. “You’re awfully interesting when you’re sad like this,” she said with satirical admiration. Guy twisted impatiently. “Oh!” he exclaimed. Fanny walked toward him and began to play with the buttons on his coat. “Say, Guy, what did you take this place for--this place with Uncle Doug?” “I thought it would be a good place to see life.” “To see life!” Fanny repeated, scornfully. [Illustration: “‘_And you’ve been sending me all those flowers on that?_’”] “M’m--h’m! And to get into politics, perhaps.” Fanny burst out laughing. “You! You get into politics?” Guy looked injured. “I don’t see anything funny about that.” “And do the things that Uncle Doug does?” Fanny cried. “Yes,” said Guy, in a loud voice. Fanny seized him by both arms. “Now, look here. You’re no more fit for politics than--well, than dad is, and the mere sight of a politician makes dad froth at the mouth. Oh, he says awful things about ’em!” “Then he hates your uncle, does he?” “No, he doesn’t, stupid!” Fanny cried, shaking him. “But he says Uncle Doug made the greatest mistake of his life when he went into politics. It spoiled him as a lawyer.” “Well, what’s all this got to do with us?” Guy asked, drawing away. “_Us!_” Fanny repeated rapturously. “Isn’t that a nice word? Dad would never let _us_--well, you know--if you were going to stick to politics, not to mention the twenty a week.” “What can I do, then? I’m not clever, like other fellows. Don’t you suppose I know I’d have lost my position long ago if your uncle wasn’t the best man in the world?” Fanny began to bite the tips of her fingers. “I guess I’ll have to speak to dad myself,” she said, slowly. “I’ll make him give you a job in the factory.” “In the factory?” Guy exclaimed, horror-stricken.