She looked at him with interested eyes.

“But why?” she asked timidly.

“Oh! it is simply a matter,” he said, “of the money-markets.  I have been doing some things during the last few days which people don’t quite understand.  They don’t know whether to follow me or stand away, and the Press doesn’t know how to explain my actions; so you see I am watched.  You heard what I said,” he asked, somewhat abruptly, “about those two things, obedience and truth?”

“Yes!” she answered.

“They say,” he resumed, “that a wise man trusts no one.  I, on the other hand, do not believe this.  There are times when one must trust.  Your mother and your father were both as honest as people could be, whatever their other faults may have been.  I like your face.  I believe that you, too, are honest.”

“Remember,” she said, smiling, “that I have never been tempted.”

“There could be no bidders for your faithfulness,” he answered, “whom I could not outbid.  I am going to trust you, Virginia.  There are sometimes occasions when I do things, or am concerned in matters, which not even my secretaries have any idea of.  You only, in the future, will know.  I think, dear, that we shall get on very well together.  I am not going to offer you a great deal of money, because you would not know what to do with it, but so long as you remain with me, and serve me in the way that I direct, I am going to do what I feel I ought to have done long ago for your people down at Wellham Springs.”

Her face shone, and her beautiful eyes were more brilliant still with unshed tears.

“Uncle!” she murmured breathlessly.

He nodded.

“That will do,” he said.  “I only wanted you to understand.  For the next week or two, all that you have to do is to get used to your position.  The small services which I shall require of you will commence later on.  Now try some of that ice.  It has been prepared specially.  How do you like our New York cooking?”

“It is all too marvellous,” she declared.

Then there came a sudden interruption.  She heard the rustle of a gown close to their table, and looking up found to her amazement that it was Stella who was standing there.

“So you are my cousin!” Stella said, “little Virginia!  I only saw you once before, but I should have known you anywhere by your eyes.  No! of course you don’t remember me!  You see I am six years older.  I mustn’t stop, because, as I dare say you know, I am not on speaking terms with my father, but I felt that I must just shake hands with you, and tell you that I remembered you.”

“You are very kind,” Virginia faltered.

Her uncle had risen to his feet, and was standing in an attitude of polite inattention, as though some perfect stranger had addressed the lady who was under his care.  He appeared quite indifferent; in his daughter’s voice there had not been the slightest trace of any sentiment.  A careless word or two passed between him and the man Norris Vine, who was waiting for Stella.  Then they passed out together, and Phineas Duge calmly resumed his chair.  Virginia, who had expected to find him angry, was herself amazed.