about the city.

The next morning Mrs. Drake locked her doors, sent word by a doctor that
she was too ill to see any one, that seeing them might have disastrous
effects. Despite which they forced an entrance and with Doris and her
husband present went over again the same shameful and degrading scene of
the night before. Nothing could shake Mrs. Drake, neither remonstrances
nor scorn nor tears. Drake returned haggard and wild-eyed towards noon
to learn the result, which they were unable to conceal from him. He went
out immediately. At five o'clock he was taken to a hospital, having been
run over by an autobus. Various stories as to how this happened were
circulated. The insurance company which carried his life insurance
attempted to prove suicide in vain. The testimony of witnesses all
seemed to point to an accident. He had started across the street, had
lost his hat and in stooping to pick it up slipped and fallen underneath
the wheels.

Death resulted a few hours later.

CHAPTER XXX

THE AFTER-YEARS

When Daniel Drake's affairs were wound up it was found that with the
sums derived from his life insurance there remained a deficit of a
little over $400,000. In this crisis the old loyal and generous spirit
of Doris returned for perhaps the last time. She wished to take upon
herself the total indebtedness, but Patsie would not listen to this. She
would have preferred perhaps in her devotion to the name of her father
to have shouldered all the responsibility with a certain fierce pride.
In the end the sum was divided. The younger sister left the house of her
mother and went to stay for a short while at Doris's.

It was given out officially that Mrs. Drake's health had been wrecked by
the family catastrophes. She left shortly for Paris, Rome and the
Italian Riviera, where her health speedily improved and she passed the
remainder of her life as an exile with a pronounced aversion to anything
American.

The panic which swept over the country, leveling the poor and rich
alike, gradually subsided into a long period of depression. Fred DeLancy
lost every cent he had and became dependent upon his wife's career. He
dropped completely out of society. A few of his friends saw him at rare
moments, but whenever he could he avoided such encounters, for they
recalled to him the expectations of his earlier days. Fate, which had
played him several rude turns, had however a compensation in store. With
the arrival of the da