, who
in turn, after listening to Todd's whispered message, had with equal
politeness shown Gorsuch the door, the colonel's signed check--the
amount unfilled--still in Gorsuch's pocket.

It was only when the Lord of Moorlands went into town to spend an
hour or so with Kate--and he was a frequent visitor prior to his
accident--that his old manner returned. He loved the girl dearly and was
never tired of talking to her. She was the only woman who would listen
when he poured out his heart.

And Kate always welcomed him gladly. She liked strong, decided men
even if they sometimes erred in their conclusions. Her grandfather,
old Captain Barkeley, had had the same masterfulness. He had been in
absolute command in his earlier years, and he had kept in command all
his life. His word was law, and he was generally right. She was twelve
years old when he died, and had, therefore, ample opportunity to know.
It was her grandfather's strong personality, in fact, which had given
her so clear an idea of her father's many weaknesses. Rutter, she felt,
was a combination of both Barkeley and Prim--forceful and yet warped
by prejudices; dominating yet intolerant; able to do big things and
contented with little ones. It was forcefulness, despite his many
shortcomings, which most appealed to her.

Moreover, she saw much of Harry in him. It was that which made her so
willing to listen--she continually comparing the father to the son.
These comparisons were invariably made in a circle, beginning at
Rutter's brown eyes, taking in his features and peculiarities--many of
them reproduced in his son's--such as the firm set of the lips and the
square line of the chin--and ending, quite naturally, with the brown
orbs again. While Harry's matched the color and shape, and often the
fierce glare of the father's, they could also, she said to herself,
shine with the soft light of the mother's. It was from the mother's
side, then, that there came the willingness to yield to whatever tempted
him--it may be to drink--to a false sense of honor--to herself: Harry
being her slave instead of her master. And the other men around her--so
far as yielding was concerned (here her brow would tighten and her lips
straighten)--were no better. Even Uncle George must take her own "No"
for an answer and believe it when she meant quite a different thing. And
once more would her soul break out in revolt over the web in which she
had become entangled, and once more would s