“I’m not hurting you, mother. I just want you to know that I appreciate something. This is the first time you have asked Gratia to come here.” “Jimmy,” said his mother in her even low tone, “I know what you want. You shall have her, if I can manage it.” Jimmy’s fine mask of a face took on lines of asperity. “The less managing the better.” “That’s a pleasant thing to say to me after thanking me for managing this much.” “I don’t imagine she has any use for me.” He drew from his pocket a letter, opened it, and laid it lightly on his mother’s hand. Dear Sir: My daughter has written me a pretty strong recommendation of you. If you come to Chicago as soon as you graduate, I’ll give you some sort of a job. My secretary would put it more cautiously, but I am writing this letter myself. Yours truly, Asher Ferry. “Jimmy, this means that she cares for you.” “It means,” said Jimmy slowly, “that she doesn’t. She doesn’t want me bothering her next year.” “My dear. Gratia looks to the future. She wants her father to know you, and I want you to go.” “You will be lonely.” Her thin lips closed tightly, and her thin ruddy cheeks looked squarer. “It is not of the slightest importance whether I am lonely or not. All I ask is that you will not reproach me with managing.” “You’re a dead game sport, mother, but if you will gamble, you must expect to lose.” “Hush—here they come.” It was a surrey that approached. Miss Coggeshall had a motor car, but she rarely used it herself. Her ancestors had not needed such things. Her man handed her down, and she preceded her charges up the steps trippingly, in spite of her weight. Jimmy and Marvin presently descended together, a comely pair but different. A few minutes later Jimmy took in the guest of honor, the two beauties followed, and Marvin brought up the rear with the hostess. “Well,” said she when settled in her chair, “we are getting near the scattering time.” “Yes,” agreed Kate, “but we shall get together again. Cynthia expects to come east at the holidays, and Gratia is coming back in September.” “Yes, indeed,” said Gratia. “Next year I hope you will let me come and see you often. Mother thinks you are awfully good for me. You—” “Gratia,” broke in the hostess, “I love you dearly, and I want you to call me by my name.” Gratia colored delicately, and silently began to eat her clams. “And where are _you_ going to be, Mr. Mahan?” “In New York, Mrs. Hogg.” “Ah!” Marvin thought it over. He had suddenly become Mr. Mahan, and evidently was not going to be invited for any more week-ends. Mrs. Hogg was going to prevent him from seeing Gratia.