A Woman Intervenes | Page 8

are going on to the
Riviera in a few weeks.'
'All the more reason,' said Kenyon, 'that you shouldn't let this go too far.
Be on your guard, my boy. I've heard it said that American girls have
the delightful little practice of leading a man on until it comes to a
certain point, and then arching their pretty eyebrows, looking
astonished, and forgetting all about him afterwards. You had better wait
until we make our fortunes on this mica-mine, and then, perhaps, your
fair millionairess may listen to you.'
'John,' cried Wentworth, 'you are the most cold-blooded man I know of.
I never noticed it so particularly before, but it seems to me that years
and years of acquaintance with minerals of all kinds, hard and flinty,
transform a man. Be careful that you don't become like the minerals
you work among.'
'Well, I don't know anything that has less tendency to soften a man than
long columns of figures. I think the figures you work at are quite as
demoralizing as the minerals I have spent my life with.'
'Perhaps you are right, but a girl would have to be thrown into your
arms before you would admit that such a thing as a charming young
lady existed.'
'If I make all the money I hope to make out of the mica-mine, I expect

the young ladies will not be thrown into my arms, but at my head.
Money goes a long way toward reconciling a girl to marriage.'
'It certainly goes a long way toward reconciling her mother to the
marriage. I don't believe,' said Wentworth slowly, 'that my--that Miss
Brewster ever thinks about money.'
'She probably doesn't need to, but no doubt there is someone who does
the thinking for her. If her father is a millionaire, and has, like many
Americans, made his own money, you may depend upon it he will do
the thinking for her; and if Miss Brewster should prove to be
thoughtless in the matter, the old gentleman will very speedily bring
you both to your senses. It would be different if you had a title.'
'I haven't any,' replied Wentworth, 'except the title George Wentworth,
accountant, with an address in the City and rooms in the suburbs.'
'Precisely; if you were Lord George Wentworth, or even Sir George, or
Baron Wentworth of something or other, you might have a chance; as it
is, the title of accountant would not go far with an American
millionaire, or his daughter either.'
'You are a cold, calculating wretch.'
'Nothing of the sort. I merely have my senses about me, and you
haven't at this particular moment. You wouldn't think of trusting a
book-keeper's figures without seeing his vouchers. Well, my boy, you
haven't the vouchers--at least, not yet, so that is why I ask you to give
your attention to what we are going to do with our mine; and if you
take my advice you will not think seriously about American
millionaires or their daughters.'
George Wentworth jumped to his feet, the ship gave a lurch at that
particular moment, and he no sooner found his feet than he nearly lost
them again; however, he was an expert at balancing himself as well as
his accounts, and though for the moment his attention was occupied in
keeping his equilibrium, he looked down on his companion, still
placidly reclining in his chair, with a smile on his face.

'Kenyon,' he said, 'I am going to look for another girl.'
'Is one not enough for you?'
'No, I want two--one for myself, and one for you. No man can
sympathize with another unless he is in the same position himself. John,
I want sympathy, and I'm not getting it.'
'What you need more urgently,' said Kenyon calmly, 'is common-sense,
and that I am trying to supply.'
'You are doing your duty in that direction; but a man doesn't live by
common-sense alone. There comes a time when common-sense is a
drug in the market. I don't say it has come to me yet, but I'm resolved to
get you into a more sympathetic mood, so I am going to find a suitable
young lady for you.'
'More probably you are going to look for your own,' answered Kenyon,
as his friend walked off, and, disappearing round the corner, crossed to
the other side of the ship.
Kenyon did not turn again to his figures when his companion left him.
He mused over the curiously rapid turn of circumstances. He hoped
Wentworth would not take it too seriously, for he felt that, somehow or
other, Miss Brewster was just the sort of girl to throw him over after
she had whiled away a tedious voyage. Of course he could not say this
to his friend, who evidently