window toward the bed. "Well?" she repeated. "If it's going to be a
waiting game, we can both play it. I sha'n't leave this room until you
sign Dick's check, and you know quite well that I go through with a thing
when my mind is made up. It's perfectly disgusting to have to insist like
this, but you see, father, it's the only way."

She had spoken very quickly, yet very deliberately. She walked over to a
table which stood in one of the windows, carefully selected a volume,
and, drawing a chair to the side of her father's bed, sat down.

Herresford had watched her from under his screwed-up eyelids, and, as she
commenced to read, he sighed irritably.

"If you'll come back this evening," he whined, after a long pause, "I'll
see what I can do. I'm expecting Notley, my lawyer, this morning, and I
don't want to be worried. I've a lot of figures to go through. Now, run
away, Mary, and I'll think it over."

"My dear father, why waste your time and mine? I told you I should not go
from this room until I had the money, and I mean it--quite mean it," she
added, very quietly.

"It's disgraceful that you should treat me in this way. I'll give orders
that you are not to be admitted again, unless by my express instructions.
What was the amount you mentioned? Five hundred dollars? Do you realize
what five hundred dollars really is?"

"Five hundred is next to useless. It is disgracefully little for an
outfit and general expenses of your grandson."

"The boy is a scamp; an idle, horse-racing young vagabond--a thief, too.
Have you forgotten that horse he stole? I haven't."

"Rubbish, father. The horse belonged to Dick. You gave it to him, and it
was his to sell. But we're wasting time. Shall I write the check? Ah!
here's the book," and Mrs. Swinton drew it toward her as she seated
herself at the desk.

She knew his ways so well that in his increasing petulance she saw the
coming surrender.

"I am going to draw a check for a thousand, father," she said with
assumed indifference, and took up a pen as though the matter were
settled.

"A thousand!--no, five hundred--no, it's too much. Five hundred dollars
for a couple of suits of khaki? Preposterous! Fifty would be too much."

"Well, the very lowest is fifty, father," she remarked, with a sudden
abandonment of irritation, and a new light in her fine eyes.

"Ah! that's more like it."

"Then, I'll make it fifty."

"Fifty!--no, I never said fifty. I said five--too much," and hi