y. "Let's
both go to-night. I'll take care of you. I'll see you don't get wet."

Her glance met and held his for a few seconds. The vibrant voice
thrilled and stirred the father as if he had been dead and suddenly
slipped back to life again. A brave smile, tenderly sweet, broke over
Virginia's lips.

"Come," she said, holding out her hands. "Come, I'll get my fiddle and
we'll go."

He was struck by the vehemence of her appeal. He allowed himself to
listen for a moment--to overbalance all his preconceived plans, but
just then his past life, Jordan Morse, his own near approaching end,
sank into his mind, and the fire in his eyes went out. There was
finality in the shake of his shoulders.

"No, no," he murmured, sinking back. "It's too late for me. I couldn't
earn money enough to feed a pup. I'm all to pieces--no more good to
any one. No, you'll have to go alone."

"I'm sorry." The girl caught her breath in disappointment. She was
crying softly and made no effort to wipe away her tears.

The silent restraint was broken only by the ticking of the shadowy
clock on the mantel and Virginia's broken sobs. She stifled them back
as her father spoke comfortingly.

"Well, well, there, don't cry! If your mother'd lived, we'd all 've
been better."

"I wish she had," gasped the girl, making a dash at her eyes. "I wish
she'd stayed so I'd 've had her to love. Perhaps I'd 've had you, too,
then."

"There's no telling," answered Singleton, drawing up to his desk and
beginning to write.

Virginia watched the pen move over the white page for a space, her
mind filled with mixed emotions. Then she turned her eyes from her
father to the grate as a whirl of ashes and smoke came out.

Matty's story came back to her mind, and she glanced toward the
window, but back to the fire quickly. The blizzard seemed to rage in
sympathy with her own riotous thoughts. As another gust of wind
rattled the casements and shook down showers of soot from the chimney,
Virginia turned back to the writer.

"It's the ghosts of my mother's folks that make that noise," she
confided gently.

"Keep quiet!" ordered Singleton, frowning.

After the letters were finished and sealed, Mr. Singleton spoke.
"There! I've done the best I can for you under the circumstances. Now
on this,"--he held up a piece of paper--"I've written just how you're
to reach Grandoken's in Bellaire. These letters you're to give to him.
This one let him open and read." Mr. Singleton