daughter to try and bring her to reason."

"And God grant you may," said Mrs. Eastwood, fervently. "You will find
her in the Blue Room on the first floor."

Goody left the office, and hurrying up the stairs paused before a door
painted a sky-blue colour. He knocked and a melancholy voice bade him
enter. Opening the door, the sight that met his eyes almost unmanned
him. Seated, or rather reclining as if she had flung herself there, in
an arm-chair was his daughter, clad in a loose dressing-gown, carelessly
thrown on. She presented a most forlorn appearance. All her bright,
healthy colour had disappeared from her cheeks and her whole appearance
was that of one suffering from severe mental worry.

"Is that you, father? I thought it was Mrs. Eastwood. Why have you
followed me?" she said, in a low, sad voice.

"My darling girl. I could not stay away any longer; it was killing me,"
said the old man, in a despairing voice, as he embraced her fondly.
"May, darling, tell your old dad your troubles, and let him help you to
bear them."

The old man's appeal was intensely pathetic in its simplicity, and would
under ordinary conditions have touched a harder heart than his
daughter's; but she remained deaf to it; her manner was icily cold; the
fond embrace was not returned, and though she kissed him, it was done
mechanically, and the touch of her lips chilled him and made him shiver
with apprehension. Her nature seemed frozen under some strange spell,
and the old man stood helpless and bewildered by her side.

"Won't you confide in your old dad, May?" he asked again.

"My dear father, it hurts me to see you crying; but I cannot, I cannot
do what you ask."

"You mean that you cannot trust your father, May."

"It's not that, father. You do not understand," and she restlessly
turned her head away and almost moaned. "I wonder if Mrs. Eastwood is
coming up?"

"If you want her, my dear, I will tell her," said the old man, now
becoming visibly annoyed.

"Yes, I do, father. I do want her," and she lay back again and covered
her face.

Goody left the room without another word in an agitated state and,
meeting Mrs. Eastwood on the stairs, told her May wanted her, then he
quitted the house and took a cab back to the "Orient" to await the
arrival of the boys. He reached the hotel not in the best of humours. He
was one of those simple-minded men unused to the analysis of complicated
emotions, and by turns his grief had changed to