tened to say.

Jefferson made no reply. He understood what she meant. He hung his
head and hit viciously with his walking stick at the pebbles that
lay at his feet. She went on:

"I know everything now. It was foolish of me to think that Mr.
Ryder would ever help us."

"I can't help it in any way," blurted out Jefferson. "I have not
the slightest influence over him. His business methods I consider
disgraceful--you understand that, don't you, Shirley?"

The girl laid her hand on his arm and replied kindly:

"Of course, Jeff, we know that. Come up and sit down."

He followed her on the porch and drew up a rocker beside her.

"They are all out for a walk," she explained.

"I'm glad," he said frankly. "I wanted a quiet talk with you. I
did not care to meet anyone. My name must be odious to your
people."

Both were silent, feeling a certain awkwardness. They seemed to
have drifted apart in some way since those delightful days in
Paris and on the ship. Then he said:

"I'm going away, but I couldn't go until I saw you."

"You are going away?" exclaimed Shirley, surprised.

"Yes," he said, "I cannot stand it any more at home. I had a hot
talk with my father yesterday about one thing and another. He and
I don't chin well together. Besides this matter of your father's
impeachment has completely discouraged me. All the wealth in the
world could never reconcile me to such methods! I'm ashamed of the
role my own flesh and blood has played in that miserable affair. I
can't express what I feel about it."

"Yes," sighed Shirley, "it is hard to believe that you are the son
of that man!"

"How is your father?" inquired Jefferson. "How does he take it?"

"Oh, his heart beats and he can see and hear and speak," replied
Shirley sadly, "but he is only a shadow of what he once was. If
the trial goes against him, I don't think he'll survive it."

"It is monstrous," cried Jefferson. "To think that my father
should be responsible for this thing!"

"We are still hoping for the best," added Shirley, "but the
outlook is dark."

"But what are you going to do?" he asked. "These surroundings are
not for you--" He looked around at the cheap furnishings which he
could see through the open window and his face showed real
concern.

"I shall teach or write, or go out as governess," replied Shirley
with a tinge of bitterness. Then smiling sadly she added: "Poverty
is easy; it is unmerited disgrace which is hard."

The young man d