“It isn’t refined, dad,” said Kitty.

He sent a searching glance at her; he never was sure when that girl was laughing.  “Fiddle-sticks!  For four months now I’ve been shopping every day with you women, and you can’t tell me prize-fights are brutal.”

Crawford applauded gently.

“By the way, Crawford, you know something about direct charity.”  Killigrew threw back his rug and sat up.  “I’ve got an idea.  What’s the use of giving checks to hospitals and asylums and colleges, when you don’t know whether the cash goes right or wrong?  I’m going to let Molly here start a home-bureau to keep her from voting; a lump sum every year to give away as she pleases.  I’m strong for giving boys college education.  Smooths ’em out; gives them a start in life; that is, if they are worth anything at the beginning.  Like this:  back the boy and screw up his honor and interest by telling him that you expect to be paid back when the time comes.  There’s no better charity in the world than making a man of a boy, making him want to stand on his own feet, independent.  When you help inefficient people, you throw your money away.  What do you think of the idea?”

“A first-rate one.  I’d like to come in.”

“No; this is all my own and Molly’s.  But how’ll I start her off?”

“Get an efficient young man to act as private secretary; a fairly good accountant; no rich man’s son, but some one who has had a chance to observe life.  Make him a buffer between Mrs. Killigrew and the whining cheats.  And above all, no young man who has social entree to your house.  That kind of a private secretary is always a fizzle.”

“Any one in mind?”

“No.”

“I have,” said Kitty, rising and going toward the companion-ladder to the lower decks.

“What now?” demanded Killigrew.

“Let her be; Kitty has a sensible head on her shoulders, for all her foolery.”  Mrs. Killigrew laid a restraining hand on her husband’s arm.

But Mrs. Crawford smiled a replica of that smile which had aroused her curiosity in regard to Kitty.  And then her face grew serious.

Kitty had a mind like her father’s.  Her ideas were seldom nebulous or slow in forming.  They sprang forth, full grown, like those mythological creatures:  Minerva was an idea of Jove’s, as doubtless Venus was an idea of Neptune’s.  Men with this quality become captains-general of armies or of money-bags.  In a man it signifies force; in a woman, charm.

Kitty searched diligently and found the object of her quest on the main-deck, starboard, leaning against one of the deck supports and reading from a book which lay flat on the broad teak rail, in a blue shadow.  The sea smiled at Kitty and Kitty smiled at the sea.  Men are not the only adventurers; they have no monopoly on daring.  And what Kitty proposed doing was daring indeed, for she did not know into what dangers it might eventually lead her.