"Have you got your penny for the contribution box?" she smiled. "I suppose you really give a great deal to the church. I hear you're richer and richer." "I do pretty well," he returned, coolly. "You can know just how well, if you like." "Not on Sunday," she laughed; then went on, admiringly, "I hear you're very dashing in your speculations." "Then you've heard wrong, because I don't speculate," he returned. "I'm not a gambler--except on certainties. I guess I disappointed a friend of yours the other day because I wouldn't back him on a thousand-to-one shot." "Who was that?" she asked, with an expression entirely veiled. "Corliss. He came to see me; wanted me to put real money into an oil scheme. Too thin!" "Why is it `too thin'?" she asked carelessly. "Too far away, for one thing--somewhere in Italy. Anybody who put up his cash would have to do it on Corliss's bare word that he's struck oil." "Well?" She turned her face to him, and a faint perturbation was manifest in her tone. "Isn't Mr. Corliss's `bare word' supposed to be perfectly good?" "Oh, I suppose so, but I don't know. He isn't known here: nobody really knows anything about him except that he was born here. Besides, I wouldn't make an investment on my own father's bare word, if he happened to be alive." "Perhaps not!" Cora spoke impulsively, a sudden anger getting the better of her, but she controlled it immediately. "Of course I don't mean that," she laughed, sweetly. "But _I_ happen to think Mr. Corliss's scheme a very handsome one, and I want my friends to make their fortunes, of course. Richard Lindley and papa are going into it." "I'll bet they don't," said Trumble promptly. "Lindley told me he'd looked it over and couldn't see his way to." "He did?" Cora stiffened perceptibly and bit her lip. Trumble began to laugh. "This is funny: you trying to talk business! So Corliss has been telling you about it?" "Yes, he has; and I understand it perfectly. I think there's an enormous fortune in it, and you'd better not laugh at me: a woman's instinct about such things is better than a man's experience sometimes." "You'll find neither Lindley nor your father are going to think so," he returned skeptically. She gave him a deep, sweet look. "But I mustn't be disappointed in you," she said, with the suggestion of a tremor in her voice, "whatever _they_ do! You'll take my advice, won't you--Wade?" "I'll take your advice in anything but business." He shook his head ominously. "And wouldn't you take my advice in business,"--she asked very slowly and significantly--"under _any_ circumstances?" "You mean," he said huskily, "if you were my wife?" She looked away, and slightly inclined her head. "No," he answered doggedly, "I wouldn't. You know mighty well that's what I want you to be, and I'd give my soul for the tip of your shoe, but business is an entirely different matter, and I----"