"Why," said Dick very eagerly, "that'll be easy. I've got three sets of plans I'd like to have you work out right now. And there'll be more. You know, I'll be pretty busy over that St. Chris--" Dick's tongue halted sharply and the red crept over his face until even his ears were glowing. "Of course. I haven't congratulated you yet. I do most--" "Don't you, Davy Quentin!" Dick interrupted fiercely. "Don't you go congratulating me. I feel darn small potatoes just now. You're quitting the game because I beat you out on the St. Christopher's job, and I--" "Not at all," David interrupted in his turn. "You mustn't look at it that way. I was foozling my approach right along anyway, and the St. Christopher thing couldn't have changed that. One swallow doesn't kill a summer thirst, you know." He laughed at this slender joke so heartily that Dick was almost deceived. "Is it a pretty fair job?" "I must say it is. And I expect to make a mighty good draftsman for Radbourne & Company. I've always been rather long on mechanical drawing, you may remember. And I've got a first-rate boss, if I'm any judge. On the whole, it looks pretty good--much better than dubbing along at a game where--where one hasn't the punch, as you put it." Dick flushed again. For several minutes he was silent save for the drumming of his fingers on the desk. Then he stirred, with a sharp irritable movement. "Well, I wish you luck. And I'll have the data for those plans to-morrow." David took this as a hint to go. When he had gone Dick heaved a sigh of relief. During those silent minutes a strange inspiration had come to him, to suggest a partnership in lieu of the new job. Dick felt that he had had a narrow escape from an expensive generosity. Next David called on a young architect who was looking for quarters. To him it was arranged to transfer the office lease and to sell enough of its furniture to pay the rent in arrears. Then David went home to lay his gift at Shirley's feet. And yet, as he neared the apartment, he felt a strange shrinking from telling her the news, lest she guess what his gift had cost him. He wondered at that. He found Shirley flushed with excitement over news of her own. "Guess who's coming!" David could not guess. "Aunt Clara!" "Why, that's fine," he rejoiced weakly. Shirley kissed him nicely. "And, David, I think she's coming to talk over things." "Aunt Clara generally is-- What things?" "Why, our affairs. Money, you know." His glance sharpened. "Why do you think that?" "Because--now don't scold!" She brushed an imaginary bit of dust from his shoulder. "Because--I asked her." "Shirley!" His clasp of her relaxed. "Now _please_, don't let's have another scene. What's the use of rich relations if they can't help you out once in a while? You've no right to let your foolish pride cut Davy Junior and me off from Aunt Clara's help."