you say, Rufus," was her docile response. "I think, though,
Miss Geraldine would like a bathroom better."

"Bathroom, eh?" returned Carder, regarding the girl's stiffly immobile
face and downcast eyes. "It would mean a lot of expense, but what
Geraldine says goes. I can stand the damage, I guess."

No word from Geraldine. Rufus was made thoroughly uneasy by her rigid
pallor. He blamed himself for not having waited longer to produce his
trump card and clinch his possession of her.

His own dreams were troubled that night and long in coming. Geraldine,
as soon as the dishes were dried and put away, went up to her room and
locked the door. She sat down to think, and strangely accompanying the
paralyzing discovery of her father's downfall was the memory of the tall
stranger with the dusty clothes and gallant bearing. She shut out the
memory of his delightful speech, his speaking eyes, and the way he
towered above Rufus and held himself in check for her sake.

"For my sake!" she repeated to herself bitterly. "They are all
alike--men. He would be just the same as the other at close quarters.
Some have no veneer like this boor, and some have the polish, but they
are all the same underneath. Even Father, poor Father."

Geraldine felt hot, slow tears begin to scald her eyes. The last time
she had cried she had been with Miss Upton and felt her hearty, motherly
sympathy. That young man had come from her. Miss Upton was thinking of
her. The tears came faster now under the memory of the kindness of her
chance acquaintance on the day--it seemed months ago--that she had left
the world and entered upon this living death.

Miss Upton's messenger would return to her and tell of his fruitless
quest and describe Rufus Carder, and she knew how that kind heart would
ache; but Mr. Barry would also tell her that her young friend had
repulsed him and would discourage her from further effort. Geraldine
knew that no letter from the outside would be allowed to reach her, nor
would any be allowed to go out from her, until she had paid the ghastly
price which her father's protection necessitated.

She did not know how long she sat on that hard chair in the ugly room
that night. She only knew how valiantly she struggled to stifle the
sobs that wrenched her slight body. Early in the evening she had heard a
soft impact against her door, which she knew meant that the watchdog was
in his place.

Her kerosene lamp was burning low, when again a sl