“Tut, tut!” Gorham stroked the soft fair hair affectionately, but discreetly.  “Little girls shouldn’t concern themselves with such matters.”

The girl released him, and, dropping on her knees, gathered up the fallen missives.  Instead of handing them to her father, she sat back and looked up seriously into his face.

“Girls are no good, anyhow,” she rebelled.  “If you would only give me the chance, I know I could help you in lots of ways, and then I’d feel that I was worth something.  I just can’t stand it to sit around all the time and have things done for me.  Oh, why wasn’t I a boy!”

“Come, come.”  Gorham raised her gently to her feet, noting the tears in her eyes, and drew her to him.  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, dear; but business and battle are meant for men.  The Amazons in ancient history didn’t change the order of things, did they?  You should be proud to be just what you are.  Now give me my letters.  There’s some one else I want to see, you know.”

“She’s waiting for you,” Alice replied, simply, looking into his face with comprehension.  “She’s the sweetest thing, daddy,” the girl continued.  “One moment she is so wise that she seems old enough to be my truly mother; and then again so young and sympathetic as to be just an older sister.  I can’t tell you how much she does for me every day, or how completely she understands me.”

“You and I are mighty lucky to have Eleanor, Alice,” Gorham replied, feelingly.  “We should both be very grateful to her, dear.”

“I am grateful, daddy; and I love her better every day.  There’s Riley; he’ll help you get ready for the theatre.”

Gorham made no answer, but patted his daughter’s cheek affectionately as he turned from her to the genial face of his valet and general factotum.  The old man had been in Gorham’s family for forty years, and his loyalty to “Misther Robert” had steadily increased during the period which had elapsed since “Old Gorham,” as his original master had been known in Pittsburgh, delivered him over to his son as a part of the house and household effects which constituted the paternal wedding present.  Now, ten years Gorham’s senior, he still adopted an attitude at once protective and admiring, enjoying that intimacy which is the reward of a lifelong service of loyalty.

“Miss Alice wishes me to go to the theatre to-night, Riley,” Gorham remarked as the man relieved him of his coat.

“Yis, sor; ’twill do ye good, Misther Robert—­ye wid so manny grand plans in ye’er head.  ’Twill do ye good, sor.”

“But I have so much to do, Riley,” Gorham protested.  “The more items I cross off my daily memorandum, the more I find left there to be done.”

“Yis, sor; that’s right, sor—­I know it’s right; it’s just like th’ Widow Cruse’s oil jug in th’ Bible, sor.  But th’ widow come out all right, Misther Robert, and ye’ll do th’ same.  I’ll have ye’er things ready f’r ye in a minnit, sor.”