ere he had every night kissed
her two eyes for pleasant dreams. The door banged behind her, and she
was sitting on the floor sobbing with all her soul.

When the tornado had passed, Eloise rose, smoothed her dress, opened the
window that the morning air might cool her burning eyes, then at length
went to find a servant who would take her trunk to the Murrays', and
passed down the hall.

As she reached the door of the long, antique room where last night's
scene had passed, it opened, and Mr. St. George Erne came out.

"Good morning, Miss Changarnier," said he. "May I speak with you a
moment?"

"Very briefly," said Eloise, loftily, for she was in an entirely
different mood from that in which she had left him the night before.

The corner of a smile curled Mr. St. George Erne's mouth and the brown
moustache above it. Eloise saw it, and was an inch taller. Then St.
George did not smile again, but was quite as regnantly cool and distant
as the Khan of Tartary could be.

"I glanced at the papers to which you referred me last evening," said
he. "As you intimated, I perceive the snarl is hopeless. Were it for
nothing else," he added, casting down the orbs that had just now too
tremulous a light in them, "I should ask you to remain and assist me in
unravelling affairs, for a few days. I intend, so soon as the way shall
be clear, to set off half of the estate to you"--

"Sir, I do not accept gifts from strangers. I will be under no
obligations. I hope to earn my own livelihood. The estate is yours; I
will not receive a penny of it!"

"Pardon me, if I say that this is a rash and ill-considered statement.
There is no reason why you should be unwilling, in the first place, to
see justice done, and, after that, to respect your Adopted father's
wish."

"My father could have wished nothing dishonest. He is best pleased with
me as I am."

"Will it make any difference, if I assure you that the half of the
estate under my plan of management will yield larger receipts than the
whole of it did under your proprietorship?"

"Not the least," said Eloise, with a scornful and incredulous smile.

"You make me very uncomfortable. Let me beg you to take the matter into
consideration. After a few days of coolness, you will perhaps think
otherwise."

"After a thousand years I should think the same. I do not want your
money, Sir. I thank you. And so, good bye."

"Where are you going?"

"Out into the world."

"What are you going t