"I told you he wouldn't, my dear," said Mrs. Spaulding, with rigid retrospective conviction of mind. "But I've leased the flat." "And I told you not to do that, too." "Yes; but he promised." "Only because he thought you wanted him to." "But I _did_ want him to." "Then you don't now?" Cordelia looked up at her companion quickly. "Yes, yes; I do. But for some reason, you see, he's changed his mind." "My dear, that was all a big, soft-hearted, foolish idea of yours. What would your poor old father at his age do in New York? How could he be happy or contented in a four-roomed flat after forty acres of hills? How long would he leave his own country for a howling wilderness of brick and mortar like this?" "He would be near me," said Cordelia valiantly. "Which probably wouldn't be so pleasant, after all, for either of you. Do you ever stop to think, my dear, just how much you've changed in the last year or so?" For a few moments Cordelia was thoughtfully silent. She felt and knew that she had changed. "But what shall I do with it?" she asked. "Has it never occurred to you?" Mrs. Spaulding at that precise moment sincerely wished that she possessed the psychic power of mind-reading. She half suspected that Cordelia might be concealing more than she had need to. "Let John Hartley have it," the older woman said bluntly. And she had the inward satisfaction of seeing Cordelia color under her direct gaze. But she recovered herself at a stroke. "He would never take it," Cordelia said. "Then you should make him." "That's something I couldn't do," murmured the other, shaking her head. "Well, _somebody_ ought to haul him out of that hole down in--in Chinatown, or the Bowery, or wherever it is." "I know it," agreed Cordelia. "Then we shall do it ourselves, my dear," said Mrs. Spaulding with a note of finality that was born of a touch of impatience. And Cordelia tried to see the futility of saying anything further. In fact, before the day was over even her nominal hesitation had vanished, and the two women had decided on many of their plans for the redemption of Hartley. From the hour of that decision both Mrs. Spaulding and Cordelia made numerous excursions to the little apartment on lower Riverside Drive, and during the next few days the portly footman of the former enthusiastic lady was directed to carry up sundry parcels of hangings and knickknacks and small furniture.