n a few
words he outlined the situation as it was.
Shirley listened quietly to the end and only the increasing pallor
of her face and an occasional nervous twitching at the corner of
her mouth betrayed the shock that this recital of her father's
misfortunes was to her. Ah, this she had little dreamed of! Yet
why not? It was but logic. When wrecked in reputation, one might
as well be wrecked in fortune, too. What would their future be,
how could that proud, sensitive man her father bear this
humiliation, this disgrace? To be condemned to a life of
obscurity, social ostracism, and genteel poverty! Oh, the thought
was unendurable! She herself could earn money, of course. If her
literary work did not bring in enough, she could teach and what
she earned would help out. Certainly her parents should never want
for anything so long as she could supply it. She thought bitterly
how futile now were plans of marriage, even if she had ever
entertained such an idea seriously. Henceforward, she did not
belong to herself. Her life must be devoted to clearing her
father's name. These reflections were suddenly interrupted by the
voice of Mrs. Blake calling out:
"Shirley, where have you been? We lost sight of you as we left the
ship, and we have been hunting for you ever since."
Her aunt, escorted by Jefferson Ryder, had gone direct to the
Customs desk and in the crush they had lost trace of her. Shirley
introduced Stott.
"Aunt Milly, this is Judge Stott, a very old friend of father's.
Mrs. Blake, my mother's sister. Mother will be surprised to see
her. They haven't met for ten years."
"This visit is going to be only a brief one," said Mrs. Blake. "I
really came over to chaperone Shirley more than anything else."
"As if I needed chaperoning with Mr. Ryder for an escort!"
retorted Shirley. Then presenting Jefferson to Stott she said:
"This is Mr. Jefferson Ryder--Judge Stott. Mr. Ryder has been very
kind to me abroad."
The two men bowed and shook hands.
"Any relation to J.B.?" asked Stott good humouredly.
"His son--that's all," answered Jefferson laconically.
Stott now looked at the young man with more interest. Yes, there
was a resemblance, the same blue eyes, the righting jaw. But how
on earth did Judge Rossmore's daughter come to be travelling in
the company of John Burkett Ryder's son? The more he thought of it
the more it puzzled him, and while he cogitated Shirley and her
companions wrestled with the United
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