again, it was like being in heaven. A
poor girl is not a responsible being at such times. She doesn't know
what she does nor what she wants; but it's all over now. I ... don't ...
care anything ... about ... him now. It's all over." Such a mournful
little voice you never heard, and such a mournful little face you never
saw. Still, it was all over.

Miss Tousy softly kissed her and said: "Well, well, we'll straighten it
all out. There, don't cry, sweet one." But Rita did cry, and found
comfort in resting her head on Miss Tousy's sympathetic bosom.

The letter Sue Davidson had found altered Rita's feeling toward Sukey;
but it left untouched Dic's sin against herself, and she insisted that
she did not care for him, and never, never would forgive. With all her
gentleness she had strong nerves, and her spirit, when aroused, was too
high to brook patiently the insult Dic had put upon her. Miss Tousy's
words had not moved her from her position. Dic was no longer Dic. He was
another person, and she could love no man but Dic. She had loved him all
her life, and she could love none other. With such poor sophistry did
she try to convince herself that she was indifferent. At times she
succeeded beyond her most sanguine hope, and tried to drive conviction
home by a song. But the song always changed to tears, the tears to
anger, anger to sophistry, and all in turn to a dull pain at the heart,
making her almost wish she were dead.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the affairs of Fisher and Fox were becoming more and more
involved. Crops had failed, and collections could not be made. Williams,
under alleged imperative orders from Boston, was pressing for money
or security. Tom had "overdrawn" his account in Williams's office; and,
with the penitentiary staring him in the face, was clamoring for money
to make good the overdraft. At home he used the words "overdraft" and
"overdrawn" in confessing the situation. Williams, when speaking to Tom
of the shortage, had used the words "embezzlement" and "thief."

[Illustration: "MISS TOUSY SOFTLY KISSED HER AND SAID, ... 'THERE, DON'T
CRY, SWEET ONE.'"]

Rita's illness had prevented Williams's visits; but when she recovered,
he began calling, though he was ominously sullen in his courtship, and
his passion for the girl looked very much like a mania.

One evening at supper table, Tom said: "Father, I must have five hundred
dollars. I have overdrawn my account with Willi