headache. The excitement of the wedding kept
her up, but she has gone to pieces since they left. Really, Harold was
all she had in the world. Min and I didn't count."

John could think of nothing to say, and he went on to his room. There
were some blue-prints and calculations awaiting his attention on the
big desklike table in his room, and he took them up to look them over,
but laid them down again.

"What is the use?" he muttered. "My God! what is the use of _anything_?
Money? What do I care for money? What could I do with it if I had
millions?"

That night when he was about to go to bed he looked into Dora's room.
She had left it in perfect order, but somehow it seemed as barren as a
room for transient guests in a hotel.

"Dear, dear Sis," he said, with a lump in his throat. "When you and I
used to get up before day in that old ramshackle home--you in your rags,
and I in my overalls--we didn't dream that all those things would happen
and draw to an end like this. There is nothing for me to look forward
to--nothing, absolutely nothing, but you will find peace, contentment,
and happiness. Well, that is enough. It was worth it, Sis. I'm out of
it, and it is only my yellow streak that is whining."

The room, in its tomblike silence and inanimate reminders, oppressed him
sorely, and, closing the door that he might not, even by accident,
glance into it again that night, he started to undress for bed, when
Binks began loudly barking down-stairs. Then he heard Betty trying to
quiet him.

"What is the matter with him?" John called down from the head of the
stairs.

"I think he wants you," Betty laughed. "I can't pacify him. He keeps
jumping up and down, pawing the floor, and crying like a baby."

"Unfasten him, please, and let him come up," John answered.

Immediately there was a swishing, thumping sound on the stairs and
Binks rushed into John's room and began to lick his hands and whine.
Although he was ready for bed, John sat down in a big chair, took the
dog into his arms, and fondled him like an infant. Binks seemed to
understand, for he became restful at once. John was not conscious of it,
but he sat with the animal in his lap for nearly an hour. Suddenly he
became aware that it was late, and he put on his bath-robe and slippers,
with the intention of taking the dog down to his kennel, but Binks, as
if reading his mind, ran under the bed and remained out of sight.
Stooping down, John saw a pair of small eyes