be all over with him.
You must not blame me, miss--it was none of my fault--but some
gentlemen came here for lunch, and he's been a-drinking and a-drinking
ever since they went away, and will not let either decanter go out of
his hand."

Helen's little face had been warm with color, but it froze into pallor
while I looked at her. We entered the door, and she took off her
things slowly and gave them to Mills, smoothing her hair mechanically
with her little trembling hands.

"What shall I do?" I whispered, quaking as much as she. "Let me help
you somehow, Helen."

"You can't," she returned quietly: "nobody can help me."

She bade Mills go about his work: then went into the dining-room and
shut the door.

The man had tears in his eyes as he turned to me as soon as we were
alone. "I declare, Mr. Randolph," said he, "it's enough to break
anybody's heart to see that child a-bowed down at her age with the
care of an old man who can't be kept from drunkenness unless her eye
is on him every minute."

"Is he violent when he's--" I tried to ask the question, but could not
form the horrible word upon my tongue.

Mills did not flinch from facts. "When he's drunk?" he said. "He is
ready to break my head, but he's never anything but tender with her.
She's naught but a baby, but I have seen him, in a regular fury,
just fall a-whimpering when she came in and said, 'Oh, grandpa! oh,
grandpa! I'm so sorry!' Oh, it is a burning shame! And to think that
that splendid gentleman, her father, does not know it!"

"He ought to know it," I cried.

"And if he did, sir," said Mills solemnly, "he would take Miss Floyd
away, and the old gentleman would drink himself to death, and that
would kill the little girl too. It's hard to see the right of it, Mr.
Randolph. But," he added with a complete change of manner, "she would
be vexed to see me stand gossiping here."

He went up stairs with the cloak and hat, smoothing them with his big
hand as if to comfort somebody in need of comfort. I stole across the
hall and stood at the dining-room door, wishing to go in, yet fearing
to vex Helen by my intrusiveness. She opened the door presently, as if
she knew I was there, and beckoned me, and I entered. The old man
sat at the table in his usual place, looking half defiant and half
ashamed. She had removed both decanters and glasses to the sideboard,
and stood by him with her arm about his neck, urging him to go into
the library, kissing him now a