ll due, if he did not retire them his
credit would be lost at the bank; and there was the banquet to the
English capitalists, with whom he was negotiating a mining deal; and he
must arrange with his broker to float some more shares of the
"Silverwing"--and manipulate, manipulate, manipulate--

An agonized, voiceless cry went up to heaven. "Oh, God, let me have
to-morrow!"

In the morning a servant found him, when she came to clean the room, and
fled screaming from the presence of the silent figure with the awful
entreaty in its staring eyes.

Louis hurried downstairs to learn the cause of the commotion, followed
by Mrs. Hildreth, swept for once off her pedestal of stately calm.

Shivering with horror the family gathered in the beautiful room which
had been so suddenly turned into a death chamber, the servants weeping
boisterously, Isabella and her mother in violent hysterics, and Marion
clinging with wide, frightened eyes to Louis, who found himself thrust
into a man's place of responsibility and did not know what to do!

He sent one servant to the Hospital for Evadne--instinctively he turned
in his thought to her,--another for the Doctor; while with one arm
around Marion, he tried to sooth his mother and Isabelle.

And in the midst of all the wild commotion his father sat, unmoved and
silent, his agonized face lifted in an attitude of supplication, his
lifeless hands lying heavily upon the now worthless papers, since for
him there would be no to-morrow!

* * * * *

The stately obsequies were ended. The paid quartette had sung their
sweetest, while Doctor Jerome, standing beside the frozen face in the
massive coffin, had delivered an eloquent eulogium, and Mrs. Hildreth,
clad in her costly robes of mourning, had been led to her carriage by
her son. Everything had been conducted in a manner befitting the
Hildreth honor.

* * * * *

"Evadne!" Louis turned a white, scared face towards his cousin, who
stood beside him as he sat at his father's desk. Upstairs Mrs. Hildreth
and Isabelle were in solemn consultation with a dressmaker. In the
drawing-room Marion was being consoled by Simpson Kennard.

"Well, Louis?" She laid her hand on his shoulder gently. She was very
sorry for him.

"There is some awful mistake. Poor Father seems to have counted on funds
which we can find no trace of. The estate is not worth an eighth of what
he valued it at. There i