“I wanted to do nothing so futile,” said Nellie, with spirit. “I had not come to the point yet. It was of Louisa that I was thinking.” “Of Louisa?” he repeated. Nellie nodded. “I do not think that he is a good or safe friend for Louisa,” she said. “You may tell me it is none of my business, but I am largely responsible for his being here, and James and I both thought I ought to speak to you.” “Am I to understand that Emmons thinks your cousin likely to attract Louisa?” “James? Oh, I don’t know whether James’s opinion on that point would be very valuable. But I do.” “You surprise me,” said Overton. “I know. It must surprise you to realize that women should ever be attracted by men they can not respect, and yet it does sometimes happen, Mr. Overton. For myself I can not imagine it, but I know there are girls to whom a man’s mere charm----” “Oh, but you misunderstand me entirely,” said Overton. “Of course I have seen quantities of just such cases as you have in mind--handsome scoundrels who fascinated every woman they came in contact with. But surely you do not think your cousin such a person.” “Very much such a person.” Overton wagged his head. “Well, well, you surprise me,” he returned. “A jovial, amusing fellow--a favorite with men, perhaps. But what would you say a girl could see in him?” His malice was rewarded as malice ought not to be. “Why,” said Nellie rather contemptuously, “think a moment. In the first place his looks. Any girl, at least any very young girl, might easily be carried away by such striking good looks.” “Humph!” said Overton, pushing out his lips dubiously. “You think him good-looking?” “Don’t you?” “A well-built figure,” he answered, yielding a point. “An unusually well-shaped head, and a wonderful line of jaw,” said Nellie. “I may be prejudiced against Bob, but I never denied him looks.” “Well,” said Overton, “we’ll grant him looks. Has he anything else?” “Yes,” replied the girl, “the fact that he is amusing. Seeing him as I do, day in and day out, I realize how unfailingly pleasant and kind he is--in small things. And then he has another quality more difficult to define--a sort of humorous understanding of another person’s point of view, which leads to a kind of intimacy, whatever your intention may be.” “Bless me,” cried Overton, “you begin to alarm me. I fear you are describing a pretty dangerous fellow. My only consolation is that Louisa has never mentioned his name, nor indeed done anything to make me think she was interested in him.” Nellie did not look relieved. “Perhaps,” she answered, “it is not the sort of thing that a father is the first person to know.” Overton shook his head sadly as he rose to go. “Perhaps not,” he agreed. “Perhaps one is not always the first person to know it oneself.” And he hastily took his departure.