"No other training!... You fancy this little university, this little bounded, contracted circle, is the world? You've tried! Let me see your hands." Higher and higher mounted the tell-tale color; obedient as a schoolboy Randall obeyed. Something compelled. Again Roberts looked and turned away. "A woman's hands; I fancied so.... And you hoped to fulfil your contract, defied fate--with those hands!" His own worked, and under command went still. "You agreed to let me help you, did you not?" he digressed suddenly. "Yes." "And promised to trust me? I wish that understood clearly in the beginning." "Yes," again. "Very well, then, that brings us back to the starting-point. I repeat my proposal that Mrs. Randall and you change your residence immediately. Must I analyze further?" "No, I understand--and appreciate. I accept too if Margery--" he halted with a wry smile. "Do you think she--would if I asked her?" Roberts' expression did not alter. "Supposing you write her and find out," he suggested. "And in the meantime you'll have three days to settle in your new home," he added irrelevantly. Again Randall colored, like a youth planning on building his first nest. The contagion of the thing was upon him, the infinite, rosy possibilities manifest. "I can do it easily," he said, "and she'll be surprised--and pleased--I can fancy the way she'll look now." Second thought intruded. "I'm afraid, though, the few things we've got here won't even make an impression there. The place is so big by comparison." "That's all right," easily. "I said I'd want to take a hand." He had a seeming inspiration. "Supposing you get Miss Gleason to help you and suggest what more is needed. I'm sure she'd do it for Mrs. Randall and you. I'll speak to her too." "Just the thing. I'd like that immensely. No one can help that way like Elice." "Let's consider it settled then." His point carried, Roberts' great hands were loose in his lap again. "I had just one other matter I wished to speak about to-night. How'd you like to accept a position under me with the new company?" He did not elaborate this time, did not dissimulate. "I'll personally guarantee you four thousand a year, beginning January first, with three weeks' vacation." "How would I like it!" For the third time Harry Randall fell to polishing his glasses; but this time, in spite of an effort to prevent, his hand shook visibly. "You don't need to ask me that. It would be a miracle; only--only I'm a bit afraid of a position of that kind--afraid it would be too big." "The company would expect you to earn it, of course," impassively. "But I'm not worth it. I know that and I don't want to accept under false representations. It's beyond me." "Beyond nothing!" curtly. "If I say you're worth it, you are. I'll make you so--help if necessary. Do you accept?"