er father's a beggar.
She must take it back. It's only flaunting her contempt for me in
my face and I won't permit it."

[Photo, from the play, of Mr. Ryder holding out a cheque
to Shirley.]

"So I contaminate even good money?"--Act IV.

"I don't think her object in refusing that money was to flaunt
contempt in your face, or in any way humiliate you," answered
Jefferson. "She feels she has been sailing under false colours and
desires to make some reparation."

"And so she sends me back my money, feeling that will pacify me,
perhaps repair the injury she has done me, perhaps buy me into
entering into her plan of helping her father, but it won't. It
only increases my determination to see her and her--" Suddenly
changing the topic he asked: "When do you leave us?"

"Now--at once--that is--I--don't know," answered Jefferson
embarrassed. "The fact is my faculties are numbed--I seem to have
lost my power of thinking. Father," he exclaimed, "you see what a
wreck you have made of our lives!"

"Now, don't moralize," replied his father testily, "as if your own
selfishness in desiring to possess that girl wasn't the mainspring
of all your actions!" Waving his son out of the room he added:
"Now leave me alone with her for a few moments. Perhaps I can make
her listen to reason."

Jefferson stared at his father as if he feared he were out of his
mind.

"What do you mean? Are you--?" he ejaculated.

"Go--go leave her to me," commanded the financier. "Slam the door
when you go out and she'll think we've both gone. Then come up
again presently."

The stratagem succeeded admirably. Jefferson gave the door a
vigorous pull and John Ryder stood quiet, waiting for the girl to
emerge from sanctuary. He did not have to wait long. The door soon
opened and Shirley came out slowly. She had her hat on and was
drawing on her gloves, for through her window she had caught a
glimpse of the cab standing at the curb. She started on seeing
Ryder standing there motionless, and she would have retreated had
he not intercepted her.

"I wish to speak to you Miss--Rossmore," he began.

"I have nothing to say," answered Shirley frigidly.

"Why did you do this?" he asked, holding out the cheque.

"Because I do not want your money," she replied with hauteur.

"It was yours--you earned it," he said.

"No, I came here hoping to influence you to help my father. The
work I did was part of the plan. It happened to fall my way. I
to