hat----?"

"I told them to wait a little longer."

The father groaned again.

"I just _had_ to, daddy; and then today this letter came."

He seized it eagerly. It read: "You were right about waiting. Suspend
all action."

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"We'll find out tomorrow," he answered grimly.

The 4:30 train gave John Houghton just time to reach the office before
it closed. Dorothy went home. Her father, roused by the evil news of the
day before, had impressed her with all that it might mean in a material
way. As though that mattered!--as though anything could hurt her more!
She would have been willing to go with Tom Brainard in rags before--but
now!

She sat by the telephone with clenched fists, her traveling veil still
pushed up on her hat, the lines that had come into her face during the
past week deepening with the dusk. At last--a long, sharp ring!
"Yes--father--not dine at home--meet you at the Yolland--a guest.
Yes--but about Tom--what?--7:30--But about Tom, daddy? Good-by?!! But,
daddy!!!"

It was no use. He had hung up. She called feverishly for the office, but
the reply was, "They do not answer." Mechanically she went up to her
room. "The blue mousseline, Susan," she said.

As the maid laid it out, she walked the floor. Through the window the
park lay green and inviting. She longed to fly to the cool grass and
run--and run----

From below came the loud, rasping notes of a street-piano that, in some
incomprehensible fashion, had wandered to the deserted row of houses.
The noise, for all that there was a pleasing swing to the air, irritated
her. She threw the man a quarter. "Go away," she waved.

At last the maid said her mistress was ready, and Dorothy, without
questioning the decision, allowed herself to be put into the brougham.

The drive seemed hours long, and then--her father's face told her
nothing. Without a word, he led her to a reception-room. As they
entered, a figure sprang to meet them.

For a moment she hesitated. Then, "Tom!" she cried, and caught his hand.

He saw the whiteness of her face, and all the yearnings of their
separation matched it upon his.

"Dorothy!" he faltered.

Her father interrupted. "Tom is to explain how he has quadrupled our
business in the last week."

A sudden weakness seized her. She followed them unsteadily. Seated at a
table, however, she was able to smile again. At that moment, the
orchestra, striking up, suddenly caught her attention.
"