departed, singing a Spanish song to the effect that he liked them all, whether dark or fair.

Jimmy presently returned from the garage, removed his glove, and laid his hand upon the swollen knuckles.

“Jimmy, don’t.”

“I’m not hurting you, mother. I just want you to know that I appreciate something. This is the first time you have asked Gratia to come here.”

“Jimmy,” said his mother in her even low tone, “I know what you want. You shall have her, if I can manage it.”

Jimmy’s fine mask of a face took on lines of asperity.

“The less managing the better.”

“That’s a pleasant thing to say to me after thanking me for managing this much.”

“I don’t imagine she has any use for me.”

He drew from his pocket a letter, opened it, and laid it lightly on his mother’s hand.

Dear Sir:

My daughter has written me a pretty strong recommendation of you. If you come to Chicago as soon as you graduate, I’ll give you some sort of a job. My secretary would put it more cautiously, but I am writing this letter myself.

“Jimmy, this means that she cares for you.”

“It means,” said Jimmy slowly, “that she doesn’t. She doesn’t want me bothering her next year.”

“My dear. Gratia looks to the future. She wants her father to know you, and I want you to go.”

“You will be lonely.”

Her thin lips closed tightly, and her thin ruddy cheeks looked squarer.

“It is not of the slightest importance whether I am lonely or not. All I ask is that you will not reproach me with managing.”

“You’re a dead game sport, mother, but if you will gamble, you must expect to lose.”

“Hush—here they come.”

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