rresistibly sought Austen's,--as though to share with him
the humour of this remark,--and they laughed together. Her colour, so
sensitive, rose again, but less perceptibly this time. Then she got up.

"That's unfair, Mr. Meader!" she protested.

"I'll leave it to Austen," said Mr. Meader, "if it ain't probable. He'd
ought to know."

In spite of a somewhat natural embarrassment, Austen could not but
acknowledge to himself that Mr. Meader was right. With a womanly movement
which he thought infinitely graceful, Victoria leaned over the bed.

"Mr. Meader," she said, "I'm beginning to think it's dangerous for me to
come here twice a week to see you, if you talk this way. And I'm not a
bit surprised that that woman didn't get the better of you."

"You hain't a-goin'!" he exclaimed. "Why, I callated--"

"Good-by," she said quickly; "I'm glad to see that you are doing so
well." She raised her head and looked at Austen in a curious, inscrutable
way. "Good-by, Mr. Vane," she said; "I--I hope Mr. Blodgett has
recovered."

Before he could reply she had vanished, and he was staring at the empty
doorway. The reference to the unfortunate Mr. Blodgett, after taking his
breath away, aroused in him an intense curiosity betraying, as it did, a
certain knowledge of past events in his life in the hitherto unknown
daughter of Augustus interest could she have in him? Such a Flint. What
question, from similar sources, has heightened the pulse of young men
from time immemorial.

CHAPTER IV

"TIMEO DANAOS"

The proverbial little birds that carry news and prophecies through the
air were evidently responsible for an official-looking letter which
Austen received a few mornings later. On the letter-head was printed "The
United Northeastern Railroads," and Mr. Austen Vane was informed that, by
direction of the president, the enclosed was sent to him in an entirely
complimentary sense. "The enclosed" was a ticket of red cardboard, and
its face informed him that he might travel free for the rest of the year.
Thoughtfully turning it over, he read on the back the following
inscription:--"It is understood that this pass is accepted by its
recipient as a retainer."

Austen stared at it and whistled. Then he pushed back his chair, with the
pass in his hand, and hesitated. He seized a pen and wrote a few lines:
"Dear sir, I beg to return the annual pass over the Northeastern
Railroads with which you have so kindly honoured me"--when he sud