"Why, papa, I always adored Stevuns--but of course I can't give up the things to which I've been accustomed! It's so silly that I think he is queer even to suggest it--don't you?" "You won't love him if he goes out of here and you stay," the old man said, slowly; "but if he will stay and do as I tell him--then you'll love him?" "Yes"--with great relief that she was not called upon to keep on explaining and analyzing her own feelings and Steve's motives; it was entirely too much of a strain--"that is it. If Steve will stay here and do what you tell him--I think he'd better retire from business and just look after our interests--I shall forgive him. But if he keeps up this low anarchistic talk about dragging me to a washtub--oh, it's too absurd!--I'm going to Reno and be done with all of it." She drew away from her father and the same cold, shrewd look of the mature flirt replaced her confusion. "Don't you think that is sensible?" Her father closed his eyes for a moment. Then he whispered: "So you don't love him." Beatrice had to stoop to catch the words. "You can't be expected to love people that make you unhappy." "Oh, can't you?" he asked. "Can't you? Did you never think that loving someone is the bravest thing in the world? It takes courage to keep on loving the dead, for instance; the dead that keep stabbing away at your heart all through the years. Loving doesn't always make you happy, it makes you brave--real love!" He opened his eyes to look at her closely. Beatrice whimpered. "Isn't it time for your drops? You're too excited, papa dear." "Then you don't love him," he repeated. "Well, then, it's best for you both that he go--that's all I've got to say. I thought you cared." Beatrice's eyebrows lifted. "Really, I can't find any one who can talk about this thing sensibly," she began. Suddenly she thought of Gay. There was always Gay; at least she could never disappoint him, which was what she meant by having him talk sensibly. Gay knew everyone, how to laugh at the most foolish whims, pick up fans, exercise lap dogs, and wear a fancy ball costume. What a blessed thing it was there was Gay. "It has been quite too strenuous an evening," she said, in conclusion, "so I'm off for bed. Steve and I will talk more to-morrow. Good-night, papa. I'm terribly distressed that this has come up to annoy you." She bent and kissed him prettily. "I've seen you make more fuss when your lap dog had a goitre operation," her father surprised her by way of an answer. "It's all different in my mind now." The thick fingers picked at the bed quilt. "I thought it would break your heart, but it's just that you want to break his spirit; so it's better he should go."