, like Doris!" he cried.

"Yes, that was what she meant," she said with a shudder. "Think of it,
my mother, my own mother. Then I went to him--to Dad--but he would tell
me nothing--only laughed and said everything was all right, but I knew!
I don't know how or why, but I knew from the look in his eyes."

"Yet I can't believe it," he said incredulously.

"Oh! I feel so alone and so helpless," she cried, twisting her hands.
"Something must be done and I don't know how to do it. Bojo, you must
help me--you must tell me. It's money--he can't get money-- I believe no
one will lend it to him." Suddenly she turned on him, caught his
arm,--"You say Doris knew, Dad told her--before the wedding!"

"Yes--because she told me."

"Oh! that is too terrible," she cried, "and knowing it she allowed him
to make her a gift of half a million."

"He did that? You are certain?"

"Absolutely. I saw the bonds."

"But then that proves everything is all right," he cried joyfully.

"You don't know Dad," she said, shaking her head mournfully. "Bojo, we
must get Doris back, she may do things for you that she won't do for any
one else-- Oh! yes, you don't know. Then I have something--a quarter of
a million. I want to turn it into cash. He won't take it from me if he
knew. But you might deposit it to his credit, make him believe some one
did it anonymously--couldn't that be done?"

He raised her hand with a sudden swelling in his throat and kissed it,
murmuring something incoherent.

"That is nothing to do, nothing," she said, shaking her head.

"I wish I could go to him," he said doubtfully.

"You can. You can. I know Dad believes you, trusts you. Oh! if you
would.

"Of course I will and at once," he said joyfully. He leaned out the
window and gave the order. "Heavens, child, we've forgotten all about
dinner. I shall have to invite myself." He took her hand, patting it as
though to calm her. "It may not be so bad as you imagine. We'll
telegraph Doris to-night, the Boskirks can do a lot. Of course they'll
help. Then there's your mother--she has money of her own, I know."

"That's what I'm afraid of--mother," she said in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head.

"Don't ask me. I shouldn't have said it. And yet--and yet--"

"We are almost there," he said hurriedly. He wanted to say something to
her, revolting at the discipline he had imposed on himself, something
from the heart and yet something at which she would not