morning and it's unlikely he'll come back."

"You sent him off?" said Barbara, and her eyes sparkled. "Well, I'm not
a child and you're not my father really. Why did you meddle?"

"For one thing, he's not your sort. Then I'm a meddlesome old fellow and
rather fond of you. To see you entangled by a man like Shillito would
hurt. Let him go. If you want to try your powers, you'll find a number
of honest young fellows on whom you can experiment. The boys one meets
in this country are a pretty good sample."

"There's a rude vein in you," Barbara declared. "One sees it sometimes,
although you're sometimes kind. Anyhow, I won't be bullied and
controlled; I'm not a shareholder in the Cartwright line. I don't know
if it's important, but why don't you like Mr. Shillito?"

Cartwright's eyes twinkled. In a sense, he could justify his getting rid
of Shillito, but he knew Barbara and doubted if she could be persuaded.
Still she was not a fool, and he would give her something to think
about.

"It's possible my views are not important," he agreed. "All the same,
when I told the man he had better go he saw the force of my arguments.
He went, and I think his going is significant. Since I'd sooner not
quarrel, I'll leave you to weigh this."

He went off, but Barbara stopped and brooded. She was angry and
humiliated, but perhaps the worst was she had a vague notion Cartwright
might be justified. It was very strange Shillito had gone. All the same,
she did not mean to submit. Her mother's placid conventionality had long