“Going swimmingly.”  “So I judged by the bills.  How is the lord?”

“Now don’t be vulgar, Tom.  You must keep up your end.  Lord Montague is very nice; he is a great favorite here.”

“Does Evelyn like him?”

“Yes, she likes him; she likes him very much.”

“She didn’t show it to me.”

“No, she is awfully shy.  And she is rather afraid of him, the big title and all that.  And then she has never been accustomed to act for herself.  She is old enough to be independent and to take her place in the world.  At her age I was not in leading-strings.”

“I should say not,” said Mavick.

“Except in obedience to my mother,” continued Carmen, not deigning to notice the sarcasm.  “And I’ve been thinking that McDonald—­”

“So you want to get rid of her?”

“What a brutal way of putting it!  No.  But if Evelyn is ever to be self-reliant it is time she should depend more on herself.  You know I am devoted to McDonald.  And, what is more, I am used to her.  I wasn’t thinking of her.  You don’t realize that Evelyn is a young lady in society, and it has become ridiculous for her to still have a governess.  Everybody would say so.”

“Well, call her a companion.”

“Ah, don’t you see it would be the same?  She would still be under her influence and not able to act for herself.”

“What are you going to do?  Turn her adrift after eighteen—­what is it, seventeen?—­years of faithful service?”

“How brutally you put it.  I’m going to tell McDonald just how it is.  She is a sensible woman, and she will see that it is for Evelyn’s good.  And then it happens very luckily.  Mrs. Van Cortlandt asked me last winter if I wouldn’t let her have McDonald for her little girl when we were through with her.  She knew, of course, that we couldn’t keep a governess much longer for Evelyn.  I am going to write to her.  She will jump at the chance.”

“And McDonald?”

“Oh, she likes Mrs. Van Cortlandt.  It will just suit her.”

“And Evelyn?  That will be another wrench.”  Men are so foolishly tender-hearted about women.

“Of course, I know it seems hard, and will be for a little.  But it is for Evelyn’s good, I am perfectly sure.”

Mr. Mavick was meditating.  It was a mighty unpleasant business.  But he was getting tired of conflict.  There was an undercurrent in the lives of both that made him shrink from going deep into any domestic difference.  It was best to yield.

“Well, Carmen, I couldn’t have the heart to do it.  She has been Evelyn’s constant companion all the child’s life.  Ah, well, it’s your own affair.  Only don’t stir it up till after I am gone.  I must go to the city early Monday morning.”

Because Mavick, amid all the demands of business and society, and his ambitions for power in the world of finance and politics, had not had much time to devote to his daughter, it must not be supposed that he did not love her.  In the odd moments at her service she had always been a delight to him; and, in truth, many of his ambitions had centred in the intelligent, affectionate, responsive child.  But there had been no time for much real comradeship.