ly appear in big, black headlines
just when Ena and her magnificent _marchese_ were searching the
columns for gush over the forthcoming marriage. It would spoil the
girl's pleasure in her wedding.

Old Peter was furious with young Peter, but began angrily to realize
that the matter was indeed serious. He desired to be violent, but fear
of Ena dashed cold water on the fire of his rage. Against his will and
against his nature he began to temporize, meaning later to revenge his
present humiliation upon his son.

"Who the devil has been upsetting you with lies about the Hands?" he
spluttered.

"I'm afraid we must take for granted that what has 'upset' me isn't
lies." Peter let his sadness show in face and voice. "I don't wonder
you're surprised and perhaps angry at my coming to you and suddenly
throwing out some sort of accusations, when year after year I've been
receiving money from the Hands as meek as a lamb without a word or
question. I don't defend myself for lack of interest in the past or
for too much now. Maybe I'm to blame both ways. But please remember,
Father, you said that unless I distrusted you, I was to stand aside.
After that I was so anxious to prove I trusted you all right, that I
hurried to promise before I'd stopped to think. Since then I've been
made to think--furiously to think--and---"

"I was brought up to believe there was _no_ excuse for breaking a
promise," Peter senior cut him short severely. There was Petro's
chance to score, and--right or wrong--he took it.

"Then things have changed since the days when you were being brought
up," he said, with one of those straight, clear looks old Peter had
always disliked as between son and father. "Because, you know you
promised Ena you would give up going to the store except for important
business meetings once or twice a year. And you haven't given it up.
You go there nearly every night."

Peter senior physically quailed. His great secret was found out! No
use to bluster. Somehow young Peter had got hold of the long-hidden
truth. He was, in a way, at the fellow's mercy. If Petro chose to tell
Ena this thing she would fancy that every one except the family knew
how old Peter's grubbing habits had never been shaken off; that with
him once a shopkeeper, always a shopkeeper, and that behind her back
people must be laughing at the difference between her aristocratic
airs and her father's commonness.

The old man's stricken face shocked Peter. He was a