quarrel you had with Dick at the
dinner--I heard all about it. I'm glad he struck you. If he could know
what you have just said, he would thrash you--as a liar deserves to be
thrashed."

"Gently, young lady, gently," replied Ormsby, quietly, yet his face livid
with passion. "You are foolish to take up this tone with me. I hold the
whip, and, thanks to you, I intend to let Dick Swinton feel it." Then,
with swift change of voice, from which all anger had vanished, he
continued: "Forgive me, forgive me! I should not speak to you like this,
but--really that fellow is not worthy of you. His own grandfather disowns
him."

"But I don't," cried Dora, angrier than before.

"You will change presently."

"Never!"

"Oh, yes, you will. When he comes home from the war, I shall have him
arrested for forgery. That is, if he dares set foot in the United States
again."

"Forgery of what?" she asked, with a little, contemptuous laugh.

"Of two checks signed by his grandfather, one for two, the other for five
thousand, dollars. He has robbed him of seven thousand dollars, and we
have Herresford's permission to prosecute. He signed no such checks, and
he desires us to take action. He refuses to make good our loss. We cannot
compound a felony."

"You are saying this in spite--to frighten me."

"Ah, you may well be frightened. The best thing he can do is to get
shot."

"I don't believe you," she cried, with a little thrill of terror in her
voice. She knew that Ormsby was a man of precise statement, and not given
to exaggeration or bragging.

"Will you believe it if I show you the warrant for his arrest? It will be
here this afternoon. Barnby, our manager, will apply for it, unless the
rector can reimburse us. He's always up to his eyes in debt. I'm sorry
for the vicar and Mrs. Swinton, yet you cannot blame me for feeling glad
that my rival has shown himself unworthy of the sweetest girl that--"

"Stop! I will not listen--I won't believe unless I hear it from his own
lips."

"You shall see the police warrant."

"I will not believe it, I tell you. His last words to me were a warning
against you. He told me to be true and believe no lies that you might
utter. And I will be true. Good-morning, Mr. Ormsby, and--good-bye. I
presume you will be returning home this afternoon. You are quite well
now--robust, in fact--and you are showing your gratitude for the kindness
received at our hands in a very shabby way. Good-day."

With t