"I am eighteen," she explained proudly. "Serena made me a cake with candles. She brought it in at lunch. She said it might bother you, tonight." She looked up at him quickly. "Do you love me, Daddy?"

"Surely," he answered absently and shaking his iron grey head he ascended the stairs to prepare for dinner, muttering, "Time flies--how time flies."

He joined his daughter again in the dining room in response to the gong. Serena had planned the meal with due regard to the fact that the day had been warm. A lobster, magnificent in its gorgeousness, reposed upon a bed of lettuce on the platter before Obadiah. A potato salad flanked it and a dish of sliced tomatoes reflected the color scheme of the crustacean. Dainty rolls, Serena's pride, peeped from the folds of a napkin and the ice clinked refreshingly in the tall tumblers of tea as they were stirred.

Sometimes Virginia and her father chatted, but there were long silences.

At intervals, Serena, noiselessly in spite of her weight, appeared to replenish or change a dish and to see that all things were in order.

As they waited for the table to be cleared for dessert, the girl said wistfully, "I wish that I could help somebody, Daddy."

He looked at her curiously. "What ever put that into your head? You are a help to me sitting there and smiling at me."

"Oh, but that's not much. To sit at a table and smile and eat good things only helps oneself."

"Well, why should you want to help anybody but you and me?"

She gazed at him thoughtfully. "Don't joke, Daddy. I know I would be happier if I could do something for some one."

Obadiah chuckled. "Where did you get that idea? I am perfectly happy tonight, and I haven't bothered myself about other people."

"The very idea. All this livelong day you have been planning for those who work in your mill."

A sudden light came to him, he chuckled again. "Surely, I look after my employees or they would look after me."

"That makes you happy." Virginia was certain that she had made her point.

"No," Obadiah shook his head vigorously, "my employees make me angry more than they make me happy. My happiness is the result of my own efforts."

"That is what I mean, Daddy. You have had such great opportunities to make yourself happy." She viewed him with eyes of fond admiration. "You have accomplished so much."

Obadiah was filled with a comfortable egotism. "I have accomplished a whole lot," he boasted. His mind was upon his commercial success and the wealth he had acc.u.mulated. "I'm not through," he bragged. He became thoughtful as he dwelt upon certain fertile fields awaiting his financial plough. His jaw set. He had rivals who would contest his tillage. He would fight as he had always fought. His eyes glistened beneath his s.h.a.ggy brows as he sensed the fray.

The conversation languished as they ate their dessert, but Obadiah's pride of accomplishment had not departed. "I am going to do bigger things than ever before," he exulted. "When you are older you will realize what I have done for you," he explained as they went out on the porch.

For a time the girl and the old man followed their own thoughts while the fire-flies sparkled and gleamed about the lawn as if they were the flashlights of a fairy patrol. Emma Virginia was thinking of her father's words. He was going to do more for her. She must certainly share her blessings.

"Daddy dear, do you mind if I help some one?" she asked gently.

"Back on that?" he demanded with a note of sharpness.

She gave an emphatic little nod. "It is very important. I--I--can't tell you now, why," she hesitated. "I should feel much better, though."

"You are not sick, are you?" Obadiah worried.

"Oh, no indeed, perfectly well. Only, I am sure that I would be much happier if I could do something for someone else. I don't know whom.

That doesn't make any difference."

"What a strange idea!" It seemed to bother Obadiah. "You want to help someone but you don't know whom." He considered a moment. "Here's my advice. Help somebody who can help you."

"Now you are teasing me, Daddy?" she protested. "I am really serious about this. I want to be of more use in the world." Her voice was very soft and gentle now. "I know that I should share my blessings and I want to do it. It is such a comfort to talk things over with you, Daddy dearest." She moved quietly over to him and seated herself upon his lap.

As she touched him, he jumped. "Gracious, you startled me so, Virginia.

I was asleep."

"Please, Daddy, don't mind," she whispered, "I'll be quiet as a mouse."

Almost grudgingly, he let her settle herself and drop her head against his shoulder. In a moment his head slipped down against the soft hair of the girl and Obadiah dozed anew.

She murmured softly, "It was so easy to explain to you. Serena wouldn't understand, I am afraid. All of your life, Daddy, you have been helping other people."

"Whom?" asked Obadiah in alarm, starting up and shaking the girl's head from his shoulder.

"Daddy, wake up. You were asleep while I was talking to you." She tried to kiss him as he rubbed his eyes, but his arms were in her way. "You are such a comfort, Daddy. I wish I could be like you," she said softly.

"You can try," conceded Obadiah immodestly. "You are keeping me up.

I am tired. I want to go to bed. My legs are asleep from your sitting on them," he complained and then told her shortly, "The place for you to dream is in bed, not on my lap."

CHAPTER II

THE MISSION BEGUN

Obadiah Dale's car was waiting at his home. It stood upon the gravel driveway opposite the steps at the end of the porch. Virginia was seated in the rear seat and her eyes rested seriously upon Serena, who from the higher floor of the porch, viewed Ike, lounging by the car, as from a rostrum.

The young negro was attired in a neat livery which gave him a natty aspect distinctly absent when his siesta was disturbed by Serena.

Regardless of his more attractive guise, however, he shifted nervously under her stern gaze. He, who ever bore himself, in hours of leisure, before the black population of South Ridgefield as one of imperial blood, was abashed before her. That poise, that coolness of demeanor, that almost insolent manner exhibited at c.r.a.p games, chicken fights or those social functions where the gentler s.e.x predominates, was absent now. Before Serena, his lofty soul became as a worm, desirous of burying itself from the pitiless light of publicity.

"You Ike," she said with great severity, "mine wot ah say. Stop you'

fas' drivin'. Miss Virginy ain' wantin' to go shootin' aroun' dis yere town lak er circus lady in er cha'iot race."

The girl displayed interest in the remark, but remained silent.

Ike climbed into the car and sought support from the steering wheel.

In a gentle manner, as if desirous of averting wrath, he made answer, "Ah ain' no speeder, Miss Sereny. Ah is de carefulest chauffah in dis town. Ah sez, 'Safety fust.' Dat's ma motta." At the sound of his own voice he gained in a.s.surance. He had acquired these statements by heart from frequent repet.i.tion.

"Wat you down in dat co't fo', den?" inquired Serena. "Mr. Dale he done say, he gittin' tired er payin' fines fo' yo'all. He say de nex' time he gwine ax de jedge to let you rot in dat calaboose."

Ike listened to this promise of extended incarceration with the casual interest due an oft repeated tale. Disregarding it, he continued, "Ah goes to co't 'count o' de inexpe'ienced drivers." He spoke as an expert. "Ef dey had 'spe'ienced drivers dey ain' gwine be no trouble a tall."

"Dey bettah be no mo' trouble," snapped Serena, "les yo'all gits in worse. G'wan now 'bout you' business. Take Miss Virginy down to de sto' an' den out on de river road. You gotta git back in time to bring her pa home fo' lunch." The solution of a difficult problem dawned upon her and instantly she returned to her former argument. "Don' you drive dat caah no fas'er den er hoss an' er ker'idge kin go," she commanded.

It is of record that even a worm upon extreme irritation will fall upon its tormentor. Thus Ike reacted to this notable example of feminine ignorance. "How's ah gwine mek dis yere high powah caah run dat slow?

Ah ast you dat? How's ah gwine do it?"

Apparently heedless of this incipient rebellion, Serena gave her attention to her young mistress, "Good bye, honey chil'," she worried. "Don' you mek youse'f sick on sody an' ice cream."