beyond, from the adjacent Curb, came the shouts of brokers.

Jones, abandoning his harp, looked over at the girl. "What are you
crying about?"

"I am not crying," spluttered Cassy, who was blubbering like a baby. "I
never cry. It is disgusting of you to say so."

"You are crying."

"I am not crying," Cassy, indignantly sniffing and sobbing, snapped at
him. Fiercely she rubbed her eyes. "It is none of your business,
anyhow." Pausing, she choked, recovered and blearily added: "And,
anyway, if the money is mine, really mine, honestly mine, I will give it
away, all of it, every p--penny."

"No, no, not all of it," Jones hastily threw in, for now the door was
opening and Dunwoodie appeared. "Keep a pear for your thirst, put a
little million aside."

He turned to the lawyer. "Mrs. Paliser accepts her responsibilities."

"Hum! Ha!" The great man sat down and looked at Cassy. He looked many
things but he said very few. "My dear young lady, familiar as you are
with Latin, with law and with literature, who am I to remind you that
chickens should first be hatched? Your rights may be contested. The
Paliser Case, as it will be called, may----"

"The Paliser Case!" interjected Jones, who could see the headline from
where he sat. "Shade of Blackstone! It will be famous! It will be
filmed! The eminent jurist here will be screened and you, too, my lady."

Balefully Dunwoodie shot a glance at the inkbeast and another at Cassy.

"It may last some time. I have no doubt of the result. None whatever.
But in spite of your legal knowledge I suggest that you have associate
counsel. Now, permit me to ask, would you care to retain me or would
you prefer some one else?"

Cassy, who had dried her eyes, looked at him and it was remarkable how
pretty she looked.

"Why, no, Mr. Dunwoodie, I would much rather have you, only----"
Uncertainly she paused.

The eminent jurist took it up. "Only what?"

"Well, all I know about law is that it is very expensive and I have
nothing except my grandfather's portrait."

Dunwoodie touched a button. "Ha! One moment."

A thin young man, with a pasty face and a slight stoop, opened the door.

The old ruffian raised a stubby finger. "Purdy, a cheque for a thousand
dollars, to the order of Bianca Paliser, is to be mailed to this lady
to-night."

"But, Mr. Dunwoodie!" Cassy exclaimed.

"You must allow me to be your banker," he told her, and turned again to
the clerk. "Get Mr. Jeroloman. Say, with m