to have what is called a career. I repeat that you could wield great
influence in the proper environment."

The girl frowned across at her grandfather reflectively.

"Do you mean by that," she asked, after a little silence--"do you mean
that you think I am likely to be moved by sheer ambition and nothing
else in arranging my life? I've never thought of myself as a very
ambitious person."

"Let us substitute for ambition common-sense," said old David. "I think
you have a great deal of common-sense for a woman--and so young a woman.
How old are you by-the-way? Twenty-two? Yes, to be sure. I think you
have great common-sense and appreciation of values. And I think you're
singularly free of the emotionalism that so often plays hob with them
all. People with common-sense fall in love in the right places."

"I don't quite like the sound of it," said Miss Benham. "Perhaps I am
rather ambitious--I don't know. Yes, perhaps. I should like to play some
part in the world, I don't deny that. But--am I as cold as you say? I
doubt it very much. I doubt that."

"You're twenty-two," said her grandfather, "and you have seen a good
deal of society in several capitals. Have you ever fallen in love?"

Oddly, the face of Ste. Marie came before Miss Benham's eyes as if she
had summoned it there. But she frowned a little and shook her head,
saying:

"No, I can't say that I have. But that means nothing. There's plenty of