There, of course, had been a time in Daniel Richmond’s career when he had made his way and gained his points by discussing and reasoning with his fellow-beings. Every leader wins leadership by persuading his fellows that he has the necessary qualifications. But that time had long passed; for many a year Richmond had been in the habit of deciding what to do at a council within his own brain and informing the outside world of his decision only by acts and orders. He now continued silent, regarding the ground; he was fighting for control of his temper, fighting for the calmness to argue with this rebel daughter. To make her reasonable he must first become so, himself. “You have not known this artist long--have you?” he said at length in the tone of a rational being and a father. “Long enough,” replied the girl. “Long enough for what?” inquired the father pleasantly, though his daughter’s tone--she being still much ruffled internally--was teasing his temper. “Long enough to know that I care for him.” Her father laughed agreeably. “You and I are much alike, my dear,” said he. “You know yourself well enough to know that the real reason for your excitement is opposition. Now, be reasonable. What could I do but oppose? Can you blame me for opposing? Can you wonder that I am afraid you will do something foolish--something you will regret your whole life? Suppose this was a case of some other father and daughter--a case you had no personal interest in. Would you be on the side of the father or of the daughter?” There was no resisting this fairness, so fairly put. Beatrice smiled. “On the side of the father,” said she promptly. “I don’t expect you to understand, father. I see all your arguments. I see how foolish and headlong I seem to you. But-- The fact remains that I love Roger Wade. I know I am not making a fool of myself in loving him. Oh, you’ll say that in the same circumstances other girls have said the same thing, when they were simply blinded and deceived by their craze for romance. But this case is the exception. And I _know_ it.” She looked at him with her sweetest expression. “Let me ask you a few questions. Do you _know_ Roger?” “I understand that sort of man perfectly. It’s a familiar type. Every girl with expectations has several such buzzing about her.” [Illustration: “‘Not another word! I’ll show you, miss--’”] “Is that _honest_, father? Is that really the impression you have of Roger Wade?” The dangerous look reappeared in Richmond’s face--in his eyes, round his mouth. “Now, don’t get angry, father. That would be confession, you know. One does not get angry in a discussion unless one is in the wrong.” “Who wouldn’t get angry, seeing a girl like you bent on making a fool of herself.” “If you were where you were when you started, and you met such a man as Roger, you’d be----” “Don’t speak his name to me,” cried Richmond, twitching and squirming. “I ask you to take time to come to your senses.”