"He isn't. Pretty stubborn sometimes, Dad is, but a brick to me, just
the same."

"Was your mother an Eastern woman?"

"No. She was a Westerner, from California. Dad was married twice. His
first wife came from New England somewhere, I believe. I didn't know
there had been another wife until I was nearly fifteen years old, and
then I found it out entirely by accident. She was buried in another
town, you see. I saw her name first on the gravestone and it made an
impression on me because it was so odd and old-fashioned--'Patience,
wife of Edwin Smith.' I only mention this to show you how little Dad
talks about himself, but it was odd I should find it out that way,
wasn't it? But there! I don't suppose you're interested in the Smith
genealogy. I apologize. I never think of discussing my family affairs
with anyone but you, not even Sam. But you--well, somehow I seem to tell
you everything. I wonder why?"

"Perhaps because I ask too many questions."

"No, it isn't that. It is because you act as if you really cared to have
me talk about my own affairs. I never met a girl before that did. Now, I
want to ask you about that club business. There's going to be the deuce
and all to pay in that if I'm not careful. Have you thought it over?
What would you do if you were I?"

The matter in question was a somewhat delicate and complicated one,
dealing with the admission or rejection of a certain fellow to one of
the Harvard societies. There was a strong influence working to get him
in and, on the other hand, there were some very good objections to