the poor boy might wish to express to her
his sympathy or his gratitude. It had been a brave soul who stood
stolidly before Rufus Carder and refused to give up Miss Upton's letter.
Moving cautiously and without a sound, she took the letter to the
bureau, and holding down the bent and soiled envelope with the handle of
her hairbrush, she again used the woman's universal utensil, opened the
seal, and drew out a letter. Her heart suddenly leaped to her throat,
for it was her father's handwriting that met her eye. Unfolding the
sheet, and cold with dread, she began to read:

MY DEAR GERRIE:

If this letter ever reaches you I shall be dead. The heart attacks
have been worse of late and it may be I shall go off suddenly. If I
do, I want to get word to you which if I live it will not be
necessary for you to read. I have not been a good father and I
deserve nothing at your hands. The worst mistake of all those that
I have made was marrying the woman who has shirked mothering you;
and after I am gone I know you have nothing to expect from her. I
am financially involved with Rufus Carder to an extent that gives
me constant anxiety. He has happened to see you and taken a
violent fancy to you, and this fact has made him withdraw the
pressure that has made my nights miserable. He has been trying to
persuade me to let you come out here. He knows that his cousin
Juliet is not attached to you, and, since seeing me in one of my
attacks of pain, he is constantly reminding me how precarious is my
life and that if he had a daughter like you she should have every
advantage money could buy. He is a rough specimen with a miserly
reputation. I won't go into the occasions of weakness and need
which have resulted in his power over me. Suffice it to say that he
may bring cruel pressure to bear on you, and I want to warn you
solemnly not to let any consideration of me or what people may say
of me influence your actions. You are young and beautiful, and I
pray that the rest of your life may have in it more happiness than
your childhood has known. I have interceded with Carder for Pete
several times, winning the poor fellow's devotion. He can't read
writing and will not be tempted to open this. I'm sure he will hide
it and manage to give it to you secretly if you come to this
dreary place. My poor child! My se