rd to these little impromptu visits, so much
she enjoyed them.

Nothing more had been said concerning Jefferson and Miss Roberts.
The young man had not yet seen his father, but his mother knew he
was only waiting an opportunity to demand an explanation of the
engagement announcements. Her husband, on the other hand, desired
the match more than ever, owing to the continued importunities of
Senator Roberts. As usual, Mrs. Ryder confided these little
domestic troubles to Shirley.

"Jefferson," she said, "is very angry. He is determined not to
marry the girl, and when he and his father do meet there'll be
another scene."

"What objection has your son to Miss Roberts?" inquired Shirley
innocently.

"Oh, the usual reason," sighed the mother, "and I've no doubt he
knows best. He's in love with another girl--a Miss Rossmore."

"Oh, yes," answered Shirley simply. "Mr. Ryder spoke of her."

Mrs. Ryder was silent, and presently she left the girl alone with
her work.

The next afternoon Shirley was in her room busy writing when there
came a tap at her door. Thinking it was another visit from Mrs.
Ryder, she did not look up, but cried out pleasantly:

"Come in."

John Ryder entered. He smiled cordially and, as if apologizing for
the intrusion, said amiably:

"I thought I'd run up to see how you were getting along."

His coming was so unexpected that for a moment Shirley was
startled, but she quickly regained her composure and asked him to
take a seat. He seemed pleased to find her making such good
progress, and he stopped to answer a number of questions she put
to him. Shirley tried to be cordial, but when she looked well at
him and noted the keen, hawk-like eyes, the cruel, vindictive
lines about the mouth, the square-set, relentless jaw--Wall Street
had gone wrong with the Colossus that day and he was still wearing
his war paint--she recalled the wrong this man had done her father
and she felt how bitterly she hated him. The more her mind dwelt
upon it, the more exasperated she was to think she should be
there, a guest, under his roof, and it was only with the greatest
difficulty that she remained civil.

"What is the moral of your life?" she demanded bluntly.

He was quick to note the contemptuous tone in her voice, and he
gave her a keen, searching look as if he were trying to read her
thoughts and fathom the reason for her very evident hostility
towards him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, What c