IV

Upstairs in the fur department Oskar Hedin paused in the act of
returning some fox pieces to their place, and greeted the girl who had
halted before the tall pier glass to readjust her hat and push a
refractory strand of hair into place. "Back again?" he smiled. "And
now for the coat!"

"Now for the coat," she repeated. "What kind of a coat do I want,
Oskar? I want to try on lots of them. I don't know a thing in the
world about furs. All I know is that I've seen some I liked, and some
that I didn't care much for."

For half an hour Jean tried on coats, until her choice had narrowed
down to a handsome dark baum marten, and a shimmery gray squirrel.

"I think they're both lovely, and I can't quite make up my mind," she
said at last, in a tone of mock despair. "It's worse than picking out
toboggan caps. I just helped Mr. Wentworth select one--and, oh, by the
way, I believe dad is going to find a place for him."

"For who?" asked Hedin, and Jean noticed tiny wrinkles gather between
his eyes.

"Why, for Mr. Wentworth, of course. You see, I told dad that he'd just
lost his position with that old Nettle River thing they were trying to