“Yet once”--She felt in his fine voice the vibration of feeling--“once we were friends. We met on the common ground of--of the spirit,” he risked. Her eyes came round to meet his. “Is it my fault that we are not still friends?” “I don't know. Something has come between us. What is it?” “If you don't know I can't tell you.” “I think I know.” He folded his handkerchief again to find a spot unstained. “You wanted me to fit into some ideal of me you had formed. Am I to blame because I can't do it? Isn't the fault with your austerity? I've got to follow my own convictions--not Jeff's, not even yours. Life's a fight, and it's every man for himself. He has to work out his own salvation in his own way. Nobody can do it for him. The final test is his success or failure. I'm going to succeed.” “Are you?” The compassion of her look he could not understand. “But how shall we define success?” “It's getting power and wielding it.” “But doesn't it depend on how one wields it?” “Yes. It must be made to produce big results. Now my idea of a successful man is your uncle, Joe Powers.” “And my idea of one is your cousin, Jefferson Farnum.” The young man sat up. “You're not seriously telling me that you think Jeff is successful as compared with Joe Powers?” “Yes. In my opinion he is the most successful man I ever met.” James was annoyed. “I expect you have a monopoly in that opinion, Miss Frome--unless Jeff shares it.” “He doesn't.” The lawyer laughed irritably. “No, I shouldn't think he would.” He added a moment later: “I don't suppose Jeff is worth a hundred dollars.” “Probably not.” “And Joe Powers is worth a hundred millions.” “That settles it. I must have been wrong.” Alice looked at him with a flash of demure daring. “Valencia said something to me the other day I didn't quite understand. Ought I to congratulate you?” “What did she say?” he asked eagerly. “Oh, I'll not tell you what she said. My question was in first.” “You may as well, though it's still a secret. Nobody knows it but you and me.” “And Valencia.” “I didn't know she knew it yet.” Alice stared. “Not know that she is going to marry you? Then it isn't really arranged?” “It is and it isn't.” “Oh!” “I know it and she suspects it.” “Is this a riddle?” “Riddle is a good word when we speak of your cousin,” he admitted judicially. “Perhaps I asked a question I ought not to have.” “Not at all. I'm trying to answer you as well as I can. Last time I mentioned the subject she laughed at me.” “So you've asked her?” “No, I told her.” “And she said?” “Regretted that other plans would not permit her to fall in with mine.” “Then I don't quite see how you are so sure.” “That's just what she says, but I've a notion she is planning the trousseau.” Alice flashed a sidelong look at him. Was he playing with her? Or did he mean it? “You'll let me know when I may safely congratulate you,” she retorted ironically. “Now is the best time. I may not see you this evening.”