She knew she was in the way.  She must not be permitted to intrude on this stepfather, or her mother’s new life.  It was all a bit heartless, and if I know anything of the child, she understands it that way.  I felt that when she came to see her mother, and went to her funeral.  Now then, Nancy’s coming to see me to-day.  Remember she’s sixteen.  She’s got to learn from me the settlement Leslie’s made on her.  She’s got to learn further that she isn’t likely to ever see her stepfather.  She knows I’m his business man.  She knows I’m his friend.  Well, when she’s financially independent, do you think she’ll feel like rushing into our arms, here, for a home, feeling the way I believe she does about her parent?  It’s going to be difficult, and—­damned unpleasant.  And for all I’m ready to help Leslie anyway I know, I’d rather see anybody on his behalf than that kiddie, with her wide, honest, angry eyes and red hair.  I’m not going to press our home on her, Sally, because, sooner or later, if she accepted it, which I don’t believe she would, she’d have to learn things of Leslie, and—­well, the affairs you know about.  That must not be.  She’s not going to learn these things from us.  I’m going to do the best I know for the child, and when it comes to the matter of a home she must choose for herself.  There’s always her mother’s folk, or even James McDonald’s folk—­”

“God forbid!  No.  Oh, no.”  The woman’s instant denial was horrified.  “Not the McDonald lot.  They’re all revolutionaries.  All of them.  It’s—­it’s unthinkable.  It certainly is.”

The man moved away.

“That’s so,” he agreed.  “Well, anyway, I’ll do the best I know for the child, Sally.  You can trust me.”

The woman’s anxiety abated, and she rose from her chair.

“I know that, Charles,” she said.  “But the McDonalds!  They’re—­”

“Sure they are.”  The man laughed.  “Well, good-bye, my dear.  I’ll tell you all about it when I’ve fixed things.  Thank goodness it’s quit snowing and the sun’s shining again.  I wish I felt as good as it looks outside here.”

* * * * *

Charles Nisson had become a lawyer without any marked inclination or enthusiasm for his profession.  It had been simply a matter of following the father before him.  It would have been much the same if his father had been a farmer, or a politician, or anything else.  The son was patient, temperate, and of no great ambition.  But he was also keenly intelligent.  Without impulse, or striking originality, but with a tremendous capacity for hard work, he was bound to be moderately successful in any career.  In his father’s profession his temperament was particularly suited, and in spite of lacking enthusiasm he had become unquestionably a better lawyer than the country attorney he had succeeded.

Just now his mind was filled with unease.  The matter of his forthcoming interview with a child of sixteen years had only small place in the affairs which disturbed him.  His real concern was for his friend, Leslie Standing, and the disaster, which, in a seemingly overwhelming rush had befallen at far-off Sachigo.  Again his trouble had no relation to these things as they affected his own worldly affairs.  It was of the man himself he was thinking.