"Supposing we leave it to Miss Farr herself," he suggested smoothly.
"Since you have personally no objection. If she is unwilling to
oblige me, of course--"

"I will speak to her," promised the doctor.

Spence smiled.

"What surprises me, doctor," he went on, pushing a little further,
"is how you have managed to keep so very intelligent a secretary in
so restricted an environment. The stronger one's wings, the stronger
the temptation to use them."

He had expected to strike fire with this, but the pale eyes looked
placidly past him.

"Desire has left me, at times, but--she has always come back." The
old man's voice was very gentle, almost caressing, and should
certainly have provided no reason for the chill that crept up his
hearer's spine.

"She has never found work suited to her, perhaps," suggested Spence.
"If you will allow me,--"

"You are very kind," the velvet was off the doctor's voice now. He
rose with a certain travesty of dignity. "But I may say that I
desire--that I will tolerate--no interference. My daughter's future
shall be her father's care."

Spence laughed. It was an insulting laugh, and he knew it. But the