friends--closer friends--than we have ever been. This boy is of no
consequence to you, and you cannot afford to sacrifice a man who can
serve you more than you seem to know, for him."

"Well," said the lady, "there is no use in acting under a mask any
longer. I would not betray the confidence of a child to serve any man I
ever saw. You have been kind to me, but you have not trusted me. The lad
loves me, and trusts me, and I will never betray him. What I tell you is
true. I have learned nothing from him that can be of any genuine
advantage to you. That is all the answer you will ever get from me. If
you choose to throw away our friendship, you can take the
responsibility," and Mrs. Dillingham hid her face in her handkerchief.

Mr. Belcher had been trying an experiment, and he had not
succeeded--could not succeed; and there sat the beautiful, magnanimous
woman before him, her heart torn as he believed with love for him, yet
loyal to her ideas of honor as they related to a confiding child! How
beautiful she was! Vexed he certainly was, but there was a balm for his
vexation in these charming revelations of her character.

"Well," he said rising, and in his old good-natured tone, "there's no
accounting for a woman. I'm not going to bother you."

He seized her unresisting hand, pressed it to his lips, and went away.
He did not hear the musical giggle that followed him into the street,
but, absorbed by his purpose, went home and mounted to his room. Locking
the door, and peering about among the furniture, according to his
custom, he sat down at his desk, drew out the old contract, and started
at his usual practice. "Sign it," he said to himself, "and then you can
use it or not--just as you please. It's not the signing that will
trouble you; it's the using."

He tried the names all over again, and then, his heart beating heavily
against the desk, he spread the document and essayed his task. His heart
jarred him. His hand trembled. What could he do to calm himself? He rose
and walked to his mirror, and found that he was pale. "Are you afraid?"
he said to himself. "Are you a coward? Ha! ha! ha! ha! Did I laugh? My
God! how it sounded! Aren't you a pretty King of Wall Street! Aren't you
a lovely President of the Crooked Valley Railroad! Aren't you a sweet
sort of a nabob! You _must_ do it! Do you hear? You _must_ do it! Eh? do
you hear? Sit down, sir! Down with you, sir! and don't you rise again
until the thing is done."

Th