and to try
the effect of a frown down on the flower face whose eyes, looking a
little startled, encouraged him. He frowned more heavily as he took a
bill book from his pocket and counted out five five-dollar bills.

"Now take that money and put it away in some safe place," he said
briefly. "I'll take you over to the Association myself. No, indeed, I'm
not Aunt Martha, and you're going with me."

The girl let the bills drop into her lap while she drew her hands away
from them.

"I'd rather go and jump into the water!" she began passionately.

"Don't--be--_silly_!" returned Dunham, in a biting, big-brother tone
which seemed to have an effect.

"Is this Uncle Calvin's money?"

"Of course it is. What would your mother say if she were here? Of
course I understand you're not going to be dependent upon Judge Trent.
You've made up your mind to that, and I'm not going to try to shake
you; but I suppose you're not so childish as to refuse a small gift
from your mother's brother, just because you're disappointed in him, or
angry with him--or whatever you choose to call it. I'm rather pressed
for time," continued John, after a short pause, assuming the tone he
reserved for a book agent on his busy day, and taking out his watch he
gave it a sweeping glance. "It would oblige me very much if you could
hurry a little. You can't stay here, you know, and I'll have a carriage
ready."

Sylvia rose undecidedly. "You take a great deal for granted," she said.
"I--there's only one condition on which I'll go, and that is that you
don't tell either my uncle or my aunt where I am. I will not see them.
I'll have no more of their sense of duty! I won't have Aunt Martha come
back there."

"Oh, very well," Dunham gave a hasty and rather bored nod.

"But do you promise?" The blue eyes began to dry and to sparkle again.

"Well, yes, of course. I promise."

She left the room; and the various shades of dignity, sarcasm, and
boredom gradually vanished from the young man's countenance. He smiled
and shrugged his big shoulders with the gesture of a ten-year-old
schoolboy, and moving over to a hoary mirror with a freckled gilt
frame, he executed a brief and silent clog before it.

"I'm not so bad," he commented to his reflection. "Nat isn't the only
star in the profession."

CHAPTER V

JUDGE TRENT'S STUDY

Dunham took care not to see Miss Lacey again until their train was
nearing its destination. Then as he approached the seat whe