Marion knew that her father's greatest vanity was his secret pride in
his ability to put over the biggest generosity of the year without
its being traceable to him. One day a girl acquaintance of her asked
her if she knew that her father spent $25,000 every year for
Christmas. Marion laughed; later she laughingly reported the query to
Mr. Stanlock. Next day this girl friend's uncle, one of the
philanthropist's agents, was called in on the carpet and given a
lecture on the wisdom of guarding his remarks such as he had never
before dreamed of receiving.

"Papa," the millionaire's older daughter said to him one day; "don't
you think it is foolish to keep secret all these generous things that
you are doing?"

"Why do you think it is foolish, my dear?" he replied with an
expression of shrewd amusement. He was certain that she would have
difficulty in answering his question.

"Well," she began slowly, then admitted: "I don't know."

"I'm very glad you don't know," said her father with evident
satisfaction. "If you had tried to give a reason, I should have been
greatly disappointed. No explanation of that suggestion could be based
on anything but family pride, which is one form of vanity."

"No," Marion differed thoughtfully. "There is one explanation based on
human caution and wisdom. I am afraid that you are misunderstood by
the very people whose confidence you should seek to cultivate, that is
the miners. Some of them don't like you very well. They think that