wide-opened eyes.

"That is a secret," he said, hoarsely. "It is one of the things business
men do not talk about. When stocks are rising it is easy to buy a great
deal, if one only has something to give him a start."

"And you _had_ something?" asked Daisy, trying to utter the words that
she thought would please him best.

"Yes, yes!" he answered, hurriedly. "I--had--something! And to-morrow I
shall free myself of Boggs, and of--of all my troubles. I shall pay the
mortgage on the house, and we can have anything we want. Ah! What a
relief it is! What a relief!"

He panted like a man who had run a race with wolves and had just time to
close the door before they caught him.

"May I tell Millie?" asked the girl. "She has worried about the house,
fearing it would be sold."

He shook his head as if the subject was disagreeable.

"She will find it out," he said. "There is no need of haste. And at any
rate I don't want you to give her any particulars. I don't want her to
know how successful I have been. You can say that I have made
money--enough to free the home. Don't tell any more than that to any
one. It--it is not a public matter. I was so full of happiness that I
had to tell you, but no one else is to know."

Daisy promised, though she asked almost immediately if the prohibition
extended to Mr. Weil. He was such a friend of the family, she said, he
would be very much gratified.

She had reached thus far in her innocent suggestion, when she happened
to glance at her father's face. He was deathly pale. His body was limp
and his chin sunken to his breast.

"Father!" she exclaimed. And then, seized with a nameless fear, was
about to summon other help, when he opened his eyes slowly and touched
her hand with his.

"You are ill! Shall I call the servants?" she asked, anxiously.

He intimated that she should not, and presently rallied enough to say he
was better, and required nothing.

"What were we speaking of?" he asked, in a strained voice.

"We were talking of your grand fortune, and I asked if I might not tell
Mr.--"

He stopped her with a movement, and another spasm crossed his face.

"You will make no exception," he whispered. "None whatever. My affairs
will interest no one else. If you are interrogated, you must know
nothing. Nothing," he added, impressively, "nothing whatever!"

Mr. Fern's recovery was almost as quick as his attack, although he did
not resume the gaiety of manner with which he had o