artly open. I think that from the moment he entered the room both of
them utterly forgot my existence. From her desk Beulah could not see me,
and Bob sat so that his back was half toward me. "I dislike to trouble you
about my account," I heard her begin in a voice a trifle uneven, "but as I
must go back to Father Christmas week, I wanted to get your advice as to
the advisability of writing him that, though there is still a chance for
doing wonders, I do not think we shall be able to save him. Of course I
won't put it in just that blunt way, but it seems to me I should begin to
prepare him for the blow. I have not talked over any more plunging with
you, Mr. Brownley, since the unlucky one in Sugar, and----"

"Miss Sands, I understand what you mean," Bob broke in, "and I should
apologise for not having consulted with you about your business affairs.
The fact is, I have not been quite clear as to the best thing to do. I
hope you don't think I have forgotten. Never for a moment since I took
charge of your affairs have I forgotten my promise to see that they were
kept active. Truly I have been trying to think out some successful plunge,
but--but"--there was a hoarseness in his voice--"I have not had my old
confidence in myself since that day in Sugar when I killed your hopes and
destroyed the chance of saving your father--no, I have not had that
confidence a man must have in himself to win at this game."

There was a silence, and then I heard an indescribable fluttering rush
that told as plainly as sight could have done that a woman had answered
her heart's call. Looking up involuntarily, I saw a sight that for a long
moment held my eyes as if I had been fascinated. It was Bob bowed forward
with his face hidden in his hands and beside him, on her knees, Beulah
Sands, her arms about his neck, his head drawn down to her bosom. "Bob,
Bob," she said chokingly, "I cannot stand it any longer. My heart is
breaking for you. You were so happy when I came into your life, and the
happiness is changed to misery and despair, and all for me, a stranger. At
first I thought of nothing but father and how to save him, but since that
day when those men struck at your heart, I have been filled with, oh! such
a longing to tell you, to tell you, Bob----"

"What? Beulah, what? For the love of God, don't stop; tell me, Beulah,
tell me." He had not lifted his head. It was buried on her breast, his
arms closed around her. She bent her head and laid h