ted on didn't come off. You
know that that happens sometimes, don't you?--without any one being to
blame at all?"

She nodded. "I think I've heard so."

"And now," he went on, eager that she should begin to see what he was
leading her up to--"and now I couldn't borrow a thousand dollars in all
Boston, unless it was from some one who gave it to me as a charity. I've
borrowed from every one--every penny for which I could offer
security--and I owe--I owe hundreds of thousands. Do you see now how bad
it is?"

"I do see how bad it is, papa. I admit it's worse than I thought. But
all the same I know that when people have high reputations other people
trust them and help them through. Banks do it, don't they? Isn't that
partly what they're for? It was Pierpoint & Hargous who helped Lulu
Sentner's father. They stood behind him. She told me so. I'm positive
that with your name they'd do as much for you. You take a gloomy outlook
because you're ill. But there's no one in Boston--no one in New
England--more esteemed or trusted. When one can say, 'All is lost save
honor,' then, relatively speaking, there's very little lost at all."

He got up from the table and went to his room. After these words it was
physically impossible for him to tell her anything more. He had thought
of a means which might bring the fact home to her through the day by a
process of suggestion. Packing a small bag with toilet articles and
other necessaries, he left it in a conspicuous place.

"I want Reynolds to give it to my messenger in case I send for it," he
explained to her, when he had descended to the dining-room again.

She was still sitting where he left her, at the head of the table, pale,
pensive, but not otherwise disturbed.

"Does that mean that you're not coming home to-night?"

"I--I don't know. Things may happen to--to prevent me."

"Where should you go?--to New York?"

"No; not to New York."

He half hoped she would press the question, but when she spoke it was
only to say:

"I hope you'll try to come home, because I'm sure you're not well. Of
course I understand it, now I know you've had so much to upset you. But
I wish you'd see Dr. Scott. And, papa," she added, rising, "don't have
me on your mind--please don't. I'm quite capable of facing the world
without money. You mayn't believe it, but I am. I could do it--somehow.
I'm like you. I've a great deal of self-reliance, and a great deal of
something else--I don't quite know wha