t. You will respect my wishes in this
matter, will you not, my daughter?"

It was all very stilted, almost melodramatic, but my father was so
much in earnest that I readily gave the promise he asked. With a look
of relief he took a package from his pocket and handed it to me.

"Keep this carefully," he said. "It contains all the data which you
will need in case of my death. Rumor says that I am a very rich man.
As usual rumor is wrong, but I have enough so that you will always
be comfortable. And for fear that something might happen to you in
my absence I have placed to your account in the Knickerbocker money
enough for any emergency, also for any extra spending money you may
wish. The bank book is among these papers. I trust that you will use
it. I shall like to feel that you are using it. And now good-by. I
shall not see you again."

He kissed me, lingeringly, tenderly, and went out of the room. I lay
looking at the package he had given me, wondering if it were all a
dream.

XLI

WHY DID DICKY GO?

"Margaret, I have the queerest message from Richard. I cannot make it
out."

My mother-in-law rustled into my room, her voice querulous, her face
expressing the utmost bewilderment.

"What is it, mother?" I asked nervously. It was late afternoon of the
day in which Robert Gordon had revealed his identity as my father, and
my nerves were still tense from the shock of the discovery.

"Why, Richard has left the city. He telephoned me just now that he
had an unexpected offer at an unusual sum to do some work in San
Francisco, I think, he said, and that he would be gone some months. If
he accepted the offer he would have no time to come home. He said he
would write to both of us tonight. What do you suppose it means?"

"I--do--not--know," I returned slowly and truthfully, but there was a
terrible frightened feeling at my heart. Dicky gone for months without
coming to bid me good-by! My world seemed to whirl around me. But I
must do or say nothing to alarm my mother-in-law. Her weak heart made
it imperative that she be shielded from worry of any kind.

I rallied every atom of self-control I possessed. "There is nothing
to worry about, mother," I said carelessly. "Dicky has often spoken
recently about this offer to go to San Francisco. It was always
tentative before, but he knew that when it did come he would have to
go at a minute's notice. You know he always keeps a bag packed at the
studio for just such e