"Did you tell Shirley?" asked Mrs. Rossmore. "How did she take
it?"

"She knows everything," answered Stott, "and takes it very
sensibly. We shall find her of great moral assistance in our
coming fight in the Senate," he added confidently.

[Pencil illustration of Shirley embracing her father
at the gate of the cottage at Massapequa.]

"Father! Father! What have they done to you?"--_Page 161_.

Realizing that the judge would like to be left alone with Shirley,
Mrs. Rossmore invited Mrs. Blake to go upstairs and see the room
she would have, while Stott said he would be glad of a washup.
When they had gone Shirley sidled up to her father in her old
familiar way.

"I've just been longing to see you, father," she said. She turned
to get a good look at him and noticing the lines of care which had
deepened during her absence she cried: "Why, how you've changed! I
can scarcely believe it's you. Say something. Let me hear the
sound of your voice, father."

The judge tried to smile.

"Why, my dear girl, I--"

Shirley threw her arms round his neck.

"Ah, yes, now I know it's you," she cried.

"Of course it is, Shirley, my dear girl. Of course it is. Who else
should it be?"

"Yes, but it isn't the same," insisted Shirley. "There is no ring
to your voice. It sounds hollow and empty, like an echo. And this
place," she added dolefully, "this awful place--"

She glanced around at the cracked ceilings, the cheaply papered
walls, the shabby furniture, and her heart sank as she realized
the extent of their misfortune. She had come back prepared for the
worst, to help win the fight for her father's honour, but to have
to struggle against sordid poverty as well, to endure that
humiliation in addition to disgrace--ah, that was something she
had not anticipated! She changed colour and her voice faltered.
Her father had been closely watching for just such signs and he
read her thoughts.

"It's the best we can afford, Shirley," he said quietly. "The blow
has been complete. I will tell you everything. You shall judge for
yourself. My enemies have done for me at last."

"Your enemies?" cried Shirley eagerly. "Tell me who they are so I
may go to them."

"Yes, dear, you shall know everything. But not now. You are tired
after your journey. To-morrow sometime Stott and I will explain
everything."

"Very well, father, as you wish," said Shirley gently. "After
all," she added in an effort to appear cheerful, "what