An Ambitious Man

Beside this radiant vision of loveliness and genius, Alice looked

plainer and more meagre than ever before. She was like a wayside

weed beside an American Beauty rose.

"I hope you and Alice will become good friends," Mr Cheney said

warmly. "We should like to see you at the house any time you can

make it convenient to come, would we not Mabel?"

Mrs Cheney gave a formal assent to her husband's words as they turned

away, leaving Joy with the rector. And a scene in one of life's

strangest dramas had been enacted, unknown to them all.

"I would like you to be very friendly with that girl, Alice," Mr

Cheney repeated as they seated themselves in the carriage. "She has

a rare face, a rare face, and she is highly gifted. She reminds me

of someone I have known, yet I can't think who it is. What do you

know about her, Baroness?"

The Baroness gave an expressive shrug. "Since you admire her so

much," she said, "I rather hesitate telling you. But the girl is of

common origin--a grocer's daughter, and her mother quite an inferior

person. I hardly think it a suitable companionship for Alice."

"I am sure I don't care to know her," chimed in Alice. "I thought

her quite bold and forward in her manner."

"Decidedly so! She seemed to hang on to your father's hand as if she

would never let go," added Mabel, in her most acid tone. "I must

say, I should have been horrified to see you act in such a familiar

manner toward any stranger." A quick colour shot into Preston

Cheney's cheek and a spark into his eye.

"The girl was perfectly modest in her deportment to me," he said.

"She is a lady through and through, however humble her birth may be.

But I ought to have known better than to ask my wife and daughter to

like anyone whom I chanced to admire. I learned long ago how futile

such an idea was."

"Oh, well, I don't see why you need get so angry over a perfect

stranger whom you never laid eyes on until to-day," pouted Alice. "I

am sure she's nothing to any of us that we need quarrel over her."

"A man never gets so old that he is not likely to make a fool of

himself over a pretty face," supplemented Mabel, "and there is no

fool like an old fool."