only stay because I have
no other home but this. I have no money, ... at least I know of none
that is mine." Lansing was silent and attentive.

"I--I heard your voice; ... I wanted to speak to you--to hear you speak
to me," she said. A new timidity came into her tone; she raised her
head. "I--somehow when you spoke--I felt that you--you were honest." She
stammered again, but Lansing's cool voice brought her out of her
difficulty and painful shyness.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"I'm Dr. Lansing," he said.

"Will you open my steel box and read my papers for me?" she inquired,
innocently.

"I will--if you wish," he said, impulsively; "if you think it wise. But
I think you had better read the papers for yourself."

"Why, I can't read," she said, apparently surprised that he should not
know it.

"You mean that you were not taught to read in your convent school?" he
asked, incredulously.

A curious little sound escaped her lips; she raised both slender hands
and unpinned her hat. Then she turned her head to his.

The deep-blue beauty of her eyes thrilled him; then he started and
leaned forward, closer, closer to her exquisite face.

"My child," he cried, softly, "my poor child!" And she smiled and
fingered the straw hat in her lap.

"Will you read my father's papers for me?" she said.

"Yes--yes--if you wish. Yes, indeed!" After a moment he said: "How long
have you been blind?"

IV

That evening, at dusk, Lansing came into the club, and went directly to
his room. He carried a small, shabby satchel; and when he had locked his
door he opened the satchel and drew from it a flat steel box.

For half an hour he sat by his open window in the quiet starlight,
considering the box, turning it over and over in his hands. At length he
opened his trunk, placed the box inside, locked the trunk, and
noiselessly left the room.

He encountered Coursay in the hall, and started to pass him with an
abstracted nod, then changed his mind and slipped his arm through the
arm of his young kinsman.

"Thought you meant to cut me," said Coursay, half laughing, half in
earnest.

"Why?" Lansing stopped short; then, "Oh, because you played the fool
with Agatha in the canoe? You two will find yourselves in a crankier
craft than that if you don't look sharp."

"You have an ugly way of putting it," began Coursay. But Lansing scowled
and said:

"Jack, I want advice; I'm troubled, old chap. Come into my room while I
dress