CHAPTER XIV
It was nearly seven o'clock when Shirley got back to Seventy-fourthStreet. No one saw her come in, and she went direct to her room, andafter a hasty dinner, worked until late into the night on her book tomake up for lost time. The events of the afternoon caused herconsiderable uneasiness. She reproached herself for her weakness andfor having yielded so readily to the impulse of the moment. She hadsaid only what was the truth when she admitted she loved Jefferson, butwhat right had she to dispose of her future while her father's fate wasstill uncertain? Her conscience troubled her, and when she came toreason it out calmly, the more impossible seemed their union from everypoint of view. How could she become the daughter-in-law of the man whohad ruined her own father? The idea was preposterous, and hard as thesacrifice would be, Jefferson must be made to see it in that light.Their engagement was the greatest folly; it bound each of them whennothing but unhappiness could possibly come of it. She was sure nowthat she loved Jefferson. It would be hard to give him up, but thereare times and circumstances when duty and principle must prevail overall other considerations, and this she felt was one of them.
The following morning she received a letter from Stott. He wasdelighted to hear the good news regarding her important discovery, andhe urged her to lose no time in securing the letters and forwardingthem to Massapequa, when he would immediately go to Washington and laythem before the Senate. Documentary evidence of that conclusive nature,he went on to say, would prove of the very highest value in clearingher father's name. He added that the judge and her mother were as wellas circumstances would permit, and that they were not in the leastworried about her protracted absence. Her Aunt Milly had alreadyreturned to Europe, and Eudoxia was still threatening to leave daily.
Shirley needed no urging. She quite realized the importance of actingquickly, but it was not easy to get at the letters. The library wasusually kept locked when the great man was away, and on the fewoccasions when access to it was possible, the lynx-eyed Mr. Bagley wasalways on guard. Short as had been her stay in the Ryder household,Shirley already shared Jefferson's antipathy to the English secretary,whose manner grew more supercilious and overbearing as he drew nearerthe date when he expected to run off with one of the richest catches ofthe season. He had not sought the acquaintance of his employer'sbiographer since her arrival, and, with the exception of a rude stare,had not deigned to notice her, which attitude of haughty indifferencewas all the more remarkable in view of the fact that the Hon. Fitzroyusually left nothing unturned to cultivate a flirtatious intimacy withevery attractive female he met. The truth was that what with Mr.Ryder's demands upon his services and his own preparations for hiscoming matrimonial venture, in which he had so much at stake, he hadneither time nor inclination to indulge his customary amorousdiversions.
Miss Roberts had called at the house several times, ostensibly to seeMrs. Ryder, and when introduced to Shirley she had condescended to givethe latter a supercilious nod. Her conversation was generally of thesilly, vacuous sort, concerning chiefly new dresses or bonnets, andShirley at once read her character--frivolous, amusement-loving,empty-headed, irresponsible--just the kind of girl to do somethingfoolish without weighing the consequences. After chatting a few momentswith Mrs. Ryder she would usually vanish, and one day, after one ofthese mysterious disappearances, Shirley happened to pass the libraryand caught sight of her and Mr. Bagley conversing in subdued and eagertones. It was very evident that the elopement scheme was fast maturing.If the scandal was to be prevented, Jefferson ought to see his fatherand acquaint him with the facts without delay. It was probable that atthe same time he would make an effort to secure the letters. Meantimeshe must be patient. Too much hurry might spoil everything.
So the days passed, Shirley devoting almost all her time to the historyshe had undertaken. She saw nothing of Ryder, Sr., but a good deal ofhis wife, to whom she soon became much attached. She found her anamiable, good-natured woman, entirely free from that offensivearrogance and patronizing condescension which usually marks theparvenue as distinct from the thoroughbred. Mrs. Ryder had no claims todistinguished lineage; on the contrary, she was the daughter of acountry grocer when the then rising oil man married her, and ofeducational advantages she had had little or none. It was purely byaccident that she was the wife of the richest man in the world, andwhile she enjoyed the prestige her husband's prominence gave her, shenever allowed it to turn her head. She gave away large sums forcharitable purposes and, strange to say, when the gift came direct fromher, the money was never returned on the plea that it was "tainted."She shared her husband's dislike for entertaining, and led practicallythe life of a recluse. The advent of Shirley, therefore, into her quietand uneventful existence was as welcome as sunshine when it breaksthrough the clouds after days of gloom. Quite a friendship sprang upbetween the two women, and when tired of writing, Shirley would go intoMrs. Ryder's room and chat until the financier's wife began to lookforward to these little impromptu visits, so much she enjoyed them.
Nothing more had been said concerning Jefferson and Miss Roberts. Theyoung man had not yet seen his father, but his mother knew he was onlywaiting an opportunity to demand an explanation of the engagementannouncements. Her husband, on the other hand, desired the match morethan ever, owing to the continued importunities of Senator Roberts. Asusual, Mrs. Ryder confided these little domestic troubles to Shirley.
"Jefferson," she said, "is very angry. He is determined not to marrythe girl, and when he and his father do meet there'll be another scene."
"What objection has your son to Miss Roberts?" inquired Shirleyinnocently.
"Oh, the usual reason," sighed the mother, "and I've no doubt he knowsbest. He's in love with another girl--a Miss Rossmore."
"Oh, yes," answered Shirley simply. "Mr. Ryder spoke of her."
Mrs. Ryder was silent, and presently she left the girl alone with herwork.
The next afternoon Shirley was in her room busy writing when there camea tap at her door. Thinking it was another visit from Mrs. Ryder, shedid not look up, but cried out pleasantly:
"Come in."
John Ryder entered. He smiled cordially and, as if apologizing for theintrusion, said amiably:
"I thought I'd run up to see how you were getting along."
His coming was so unexpected that for a moment Shirley was startled,but she quickly regained her composure and asked him to take a seat. Heseemed pleased to find her making such good progress, and he stopped toanswer a number of questions she put to him. Shirley tried to becordial, but when she looked well at him and noted the keen, hawk-likeeyes, the cruel, vindictive lines about the mouth, the square-set,relentless jaw--Wall Street had gone wrong with the Colossus that dayand he was still wearing his war paint--she recalled the wrong this manhad done her father and she felt how bitterly she hated him. The moreher mind dwelt upon it, the more exasperated she was to think sheshould be there, a guest, under his roof, and it was only with thegreatest difficulty that she remained civil.
"What is the moral of your life?" she demanded bluntly.
He was quick to note the contemptuous tone in her voice, and he gaveher a keen, searching look as if he were trying to read her thoughtsand fathom the reason for her very evident hostility towards him.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, what can you show as your life work? Most men whose lives arebig enough to call for biographies have done something useful--theyhave been famous statesmen, eminent scientists, celebrated authors,great inventors. What have you done?"
The question appeared to stagger him. The audacity of any one puttingsuch a question to a man in his own house was incredible. He squaredhis jaws and his clenched fist descended heavily on the table.
"What have I done?" he cried. "I have built up the greatest fortuneever accumulated by one man. My fabulous wealth has caused my name tospread to the four corners of the earth. Is that not an achievement torelate to future generations?"
Shirley gave a little shrug of her shoul
ders.
"Future generations will take no interest in you or your millions," shesaid calmly. "Our civilization will have made such progress by thattime that people will merely wonder why we, in our day, tolerated menof your class so long. Now it is different. The world is money-mad. Youare a person of importance in the eyes of the unthinking multitude, butit only envies you your fortune; it does not admire you personally.When you die people will count your millions, not your good deeds."
He laughed cynically and drew up a chair near her desk. As a generalthing, John Ryder never wasted words on women. He had but a pooropinion of their mentality, and considered it beneath the dignity ofany man to enter into serious argument with a woman. In fact, it wasseldom he condescended to argue with anyone. He gave orders and talkedto people; he had no patience to be talked to. Yet he found himselflistening with interest to this young woman who expressed herself sofrankly. It was a decided novelty for him to hear the truth.
"What do I care what the world says when I'm dead?" he asked with aforced laugh.
"You do care," replied Shirley gravely. "You may school yourself tobelieve that you are indifferent to the good opinion of your fellowman, but right down in your heart you do care--every man does, whetherhe be multi-millionaire or a sneak thief."
"You class the two together, I notice," he said bitterly.
"It is often a distinction without a difference," she rejoined promptly.
He remained silent for a moment or two toying nervously with a paperknife. Then, arrogantly, and as if anxious to impress her with hisimportance, he said:
"Most men would be satisfied if they had accomplished what I have. Doyou realize that my wealth is so vast that I scarcely know myself whatI am worth? What my fortune will be in another fifty years staggers theimagination. Yet I started with nothing. I made it all myself. Surely Ishould get credit for that."
"How did you make it?" retorted Shirley.
"In America we don't ask how a man makes his money; we ask if he hasgot any."
"You are mistaken," replied Shirley earnestly. "America is waking up.The conscience of the nation is being aroused. We are coming to realizethat the scandals of the last few years were only the fruit of publicindifference to sharp business practice. The people will soon ask thedishonest rich man where he got it, and there will have to be anaccounting. What account will you be able to give?"
He bit his lip and looked at her for a moment without replying. Then,with a faint suspicion of a sneer, he said:
"You are a socialist--perhaps an anarchist!"
"Only the ignorant commit the blunder of confounding the two," sheretorted. "Anarchy is a disease; socialism is a science."
"Indeed!" he exclaimed mockingly, "I thought the terms were synonymous.The world regards them both as insane."
Herself an enthusiastic convert to the new political faith that wasrising like a flood tide all over the world, the contemptuous tone inwhich this plutocrat spoke of the coming reorganization of societywhich was destined to destroy him and his kind spurred her on torenewed argument.
"I imagine," she said sarcastically, "that you would hardly approve anysocial reform which threatened to interfere with your own businessmethods. But no matter how you disapprove of socialism on generalprinciples, as a leader of the capitalist class you should understandwhat socialism is, and not confuse one of the most important movementsin modern world-history with the crazy theories of irresponsiblecranks. The anarchists are the natural enemies of the entire humanfamily, and would destroy it were their dangerous doctrines permittedto prevail; the socialists, on the contrary, are seeking to savemankind from the degradation, the crime and the folly into which suchmen as you have driven it."
She spoke impetuously, with the inspired exaltation of a prophetdelivering a message to the people. Ryder listened, concealing hisimpatience with uneasy little coughs.
"Yes," she went on, "I am a socialist and I am proud of it. The wholeworld is slowly drifting toward socialism as the only remedy for theactual intolerable conditions. It may not come in our time, but it willcome as surely as the sun will rise and set tomorrow. Has not the flagof socialism waved recently from the White House? Has not a Presidentof the United States declared that the State must eventually curb thegreat fortunes? What is that but socialism?"
"True," retorted Ryder grimly, "and that little speech intended for thebenefit of the gallery will cost him the nomination at the nextPresidential election. We don't want in the White House a President whostirs up class hatred. Our rich men have a right to what is their own;that is guaranteed them by the Constitution."
"Is it their own?" interrupted Shirley.
Ryder ignored the insinuation and proceeded:
"What of our boasted free institutions if a man is to be restricted inwhat he may and may not do? If I am clever enough to accumulatemillions who can stop me?"
"The people will stop you," said Shirley calmly. "It is only a questionof time. Their patience is about exhausted. Put your ear to the groundand listen to the distant rumbling of the tempest which, sooner orlater, will be unchained in this land, provoked by the iniquitouspractices of organized capital. The people have had enough of theextortions of the Trusts. One day they will rise in their wrath andseize by the throat this knavish plutocracy which, confident in thepower of its wealth to procure legal immunity and reckless of itsdanger, persists in robbing the public daily. But retribution is athand. The growing discontent of the proletariat, the ever-increasingstrikes and labour disputes of all kinds, the clamour against theRailroads and the Trusts, the evidence of collusion between both--allthis is the writing on the wall. The capitalistic system is doomed;socialism will succeed it."
"What is socialism?" he demanded scornfully. "What will it give thepublic that it has not got already?"
Shirley, who never neglected an opportunity to make a convert, nomatter how hardened he might be, picked up a little pamphlet printedfor propaganda purposes which she had that morning received by mail.
"Here," she said, "is one of the best and clearest definitions ofsocialism I have ever read:
"Socialism is common ownership of natural resources and publicutilities, and the common operation of all industries for the generalgood. Socialism is opposed to monopoly, that is, to private ownershipof land and the instruments of labor, which is indirect ownership ofmen; to the wages system, by which labor is legally robbed of a largepart of the product of labor; to competition with its enormous waste ofeffort and its opportunities for the spoliation of the weak by thestrong. Socialism is industrial democracy. It is the government of thepeople by the people and for the people, not in the present restrictedsense, but as regards all the common interests of men. Socialism isopposed to oligarchy and monarchy, and therefore to the tyrannies ofbusiness cliques and money kings. Socialism is for freedom, not onlyfrom the fear of force, but from the fear of want. Socialism proposesreal liberty, not merely the right to vote, but the liberty to live forsomething more than meat and drink.
"Socialism is righteousness in the relations of men. It is based on thefundamentals of religion, the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood ofmen. It seeks through association and equality to realize fraternity.Socialism will destroy the motives which make for cheap manufacturers,poor workmanship and adulterations; it will secure the real utility ofthings. Use, not exchange, will be the object of labour. Things will bemade to serve, not to sell. Socialism will banish war, for privateownership is back of strife between men. Socialism will purifypolitics, for private capitalism is the great source of politicalcorruption. Socialism will make for education, invention and discovery;it will stimulate the moral development of men. Crime will have lostmost of its motive and pauperism will have no excuse. That," saidShirley, as she concluded, "is socialism!"
Ryder shrugged his shoulders and rose to go.
"Delightful," he said ironically, "but in my judgment wholly Utopianand impracticable. It's nothing but a gigantic pipe dream. It won'tcome in this generation nor in ten generatio
ns if, indeed, it is evertaken seriously by a majority big enough to put its theories to thetest. Socialism does not take into account two great factors that movethe world--men's passions and human ambition. If you eliminate ambitionyou remove the strongest incentive to individual effort. From your ownaccount a socialistic world would be a dreadfully tame place to livein--everybody depressingly good, without any of the feverish turmoil oflife as we know it. Such a world would not appeal to me at all. I lovethe fray--the daily battle of gain and loss, the excitement of makingor losing millions. That is my life!"
"Yet what good is your money to you?" insisted Shirley. "You are ableto spend only an infinitesimal part of it. You cannot even give itaway, for nobody will have any of it."
"Money!" he hissed rather than spoke, "I hate money. It means nothingto me. I have so much that I have lost all idea of its value. I go onaccumulating it for only one purpose. It buys power. I love power--thatis my passion, my ambition, to rule the world with my gold. Do youknow," he went on and leaning over the desk in a dramatic attitude,"that if I chose I could start a panic in Wall Street to-morrow thatwould shake to their foundations every financial institution in thecountry? Do you know that I practically control the Congress of theUnited States and that no legislative measure becomes law unless it hasmy approval?"
"The public has long suspected as much," replied Shirley. "That is whyyou are looked upon as a menace to the stability and honesty of ourpolitical and commercial life."
An angry answer rose to his lips when the door opened and Mrs. Ryderentered.
"I've been looking for you, John," she said peevishly. "Mr. Bagley toldme you were somewhere in the house. Senator Roberts is downstairs."
"He's come about Jefferson and his daughter, I suppose," mutteredRyder. "Well, I'll see him. Where is he?"
"In the library. Kate came with him. She's in my room."
They left Shirley to her writing, and when he had closed the door thefinancier turned to his wife and said impatiently:
"Now, what are we going to do about Jefferson and Kate? The senatorinsists on the matter of their marriage being settled one way oranother. Where is Jefferson?"
"He came in about half an hour ago. He was upstairs to see me, and Ithought he was looking for you," answered the wife.
"Well," replied Ryder determinedly, "he and I have got to understandeach other. This can't go on. It shan't."
Mrs. Ryder put her hand on his arm, and said pleadingly:
"Don't be impatient with the boy, John. Remember he is all we have. Heis so unhappy. He wants to please us, but--"
"But he insists on pleasing himself," said Ryder completing thesentence.
"I'm afraid, John, that his liking for that Miss Rossmore is moreserious than you realize--"
The financier stamped his foot and replied angrily:
"Miss Rossmore! That name seems to confront me at every turn--for yearsthe father, now the daughter! I'm sorry, my dear," he went on morecalmly, "that you seem inclined to listen to Jefferson. It onlyencourages him in his attitude towards me. Kate would make him anexcellent wife, while what do we know about the other woman? Are youwilling to sacrifice your son's future to a mere boyish whim?"
Mrs. Ryder sighed.
"It's very hard," she said, "for a mother to know what to advise. MissGreen says--"
"What!" exclaimed her husband, "you have consulted Miss Green on thesubject?"
"Yes," answered his wife, "I don't know how I came to tell her, but Idid. I seem to tell her everything. I find her such a comfort, John. Ihaven't had an attack of nerves since that girl has been in the house."
"She is certainly a superior woman," admitted Ryder. "I wish she'd wardthat Rossmore girl off. I wish she--" He stopped abruptly as if notventuring to give expression to his thoughts, even to his wife. Then hesaid: "If she were Kate Roberts she wouldn't let Jeff slip through herfingers."
"I have often wished," went on Mrs. Ryder, "that Kate were more likeShirley Green. I don't think we would have any difficulty with Jeffthen."
"Kate is the daughter of Senator Roberts, and if this marriage isbroken off in any way without the senator's consent, he is in aposition to injure my interests materially. If you see Jefferson sendhim to me in the library. I'll go and keep Roberts in good humour untilhe comes."
He went downstairs and Mrs. Ryder proceeded to her apartments, whereshe found Jefferson chatting with Kate. She at once delivered RyderSr.'s message.
"Jeff, your father wants to see you in the library."
"Yes, I want to see him," answered the young man grimly, and after afew moments more badinage with Kate he left the room.
It was not a mere coincidence that had brought Senator Roberts and hisdaughter and the financier's son all together under the Ryder roof atthe same time. It was part of Jefferson's well-prepared plan to exposethe rascality of his father's secretary, and at the same time ridhimself of the embarrassing entanglement with Kate Roberts. If thesenator were confronted publicly with the fact that his daughter, whilekeeping up the fiction of being engaged to Ryder Jr., was reallypreparing to run off with the Hon. Fitzroy Bagley, he would have noalternative but to retire gracefully under fire and relinquish all ideaof a marriage alliance with the house of Ryder. The critical moment hadarrived. To-morrow, Wednesday, was the day fixed for the elopement. Thesecretary's little game had gone far enough. The time had come foraction. So Jefferson had written to Senator Roberts, who was inWashington, asking him if it would be convenient for him to come atonce to New York and meet himself and his father on a matter ofimportance. The senator naturally jumped to the conclusion thatJefferson and Ryder had reached an amicable understanding, and heimmediately hurried to New York and with his daughter came round toSeventy-fourth Street.
When Ryder Sr. entered the library, Senator Roberts was stridingnervously up and down the room. This, he felt, was an important day.The ambition of his life seemed on the point of being attained.
"Hello, Roberts," was Ryder's cheerful greeting. "What's brought youfrom Washington at a critical time like this? The Rossmore impeachmentneeds every friend we have."
"Just as if you didn't know," smiled the senator uneasily, "that I amhere by appointment to meet you and your son!"
"To meet me and my son?" echoed Ryder astonished.
The senator, perplexed and beginning to feel real alarm, showed thefinancier Jefferson's letter. Ryder read it and he looked pleased.
"That's all right," he said, "if the lad asked you to meet us here itcan mean only one thing--that at last he has made up his mind to thismarriage."
"That's what I thought," replied the senator, breathing more freely. "Iwas sorry to leave Washington at such a time, but I'm a father, andKate is more to me than the Rossmore impeachment. Besides, to see hermarried to your son Jefferson is one of the dearest wishes of my life."
"You can rest easy," said Ryder; "that is practically settled.Jefferson's sending for you proves that he is now ready to meet mywishes. He'll be here any minute. How is the Rossmore case progressing?"
"Not so well as it might," growled the senator. "There's a lot ofmaudlin sympathy for the judge. He's a pretty sick man by all accounts,and the newspapers seem to be taking his part. One or two of theWestern senators are talking Corporate influence and Trust legislation,but when it comes to a vote the matter will be settled on party lines."
"That means that Judge Rossmore will be removed?" demanded Rydersternly.
"Yes, with five votes to spare," answered the senator.
"That's not enough," insisted Ryder. "There must be at least twenty.Let there be no blunders, Roberts. The man is a menace to all the bigcommercial interests. This thing must go through."
The door opened and Jefferson appeared. On seeing the senator talkingwith his father, he hesitated on the threshold.
"Come in, Jeff," said his father pleasantly. "You expected to seeSenator Roberts, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir. How do you do, Senator?" said the young man, advancing intothe room.
&n
bsp; "I got your letter, my boy, and here I am," said the senator smilingaffably. "I suppose we can guess what the business is, eh?"
"That he's going to marry Kate, of course," chimed in Ryder Sr. "Jeff,my lad, I'm glad you are beginning to see my way of looking at things.You're doing more to please me lately, and I appreciate it. You stayedat home when I asked you to, and now you've made up your mind regardingthis marriage."
Jefferson let his father finish his speech, and then he said calmly:
"I think there must be some misapprehension as to the reason for mysummoning Senator Roberts to New York. It had nothing to do with mymarrying Miss Roberts, but to prevent her marriage with someone else."
"What!" exclaimed Ryder, Sr.
"Marriage with someone else?" echoed the senator. He thought he had notheard aright, yet at the same time he had grave misgivings. "What doyou mean, sir?"
Taking from his pocket a copy of the letter he had picked up on thestaircase, Jefferson held it out to the girl's father.
"Your daughter is preparing to run away with my father's secretary.To-morrow would have been too late. That is why I summoned you. Readthis."
The senator took the letter, and as he read his face grew ashen and hishand trembled violently. At one blow all his ambitious projects for hisdaughter had been swept away. The inconsiderate act of a silly,thoughtless girl had spoiled the carefully laid plans of a lifetime.The only consolation which remained was that the calamity might havebeen still more serious. This timely warning had saved his family fromperhaps an even greater scandal. He passed the letter in silence toRyder, Sr.
The financier was a man of few words when the situation called forprompt action. After he had read the letter through, there was anominous silence. Then he rang a bell. The butler appeared.
"Tell Mr. Bagley I want him."
The man bowed and disappeared.
"Who the devil is this Bagley?" demanded the senater.
"English--blue blood--no money," was Ryder's laconic answer.
"That's the only kind we seem to get over here," growled the senator."We furnish the money--they furnish the blood--damn his blue blood! Idon't want any in mine." Turning to Jefferson, he said: "Jefferson,whatever the motives that actuated you, I can only thank you for thiswarning. I think it would have broken my heart if my girl had gone awaywith that scoundrel. Of course, under the circumstances, I must abandonall idea of your becoming my son-in-law. I release you from allobligations you may have felt yourself bound by."
Jefferson bowed and remained silent.
Ryder, Sr. eyed his son closely, an amused expression hovering on hisface. After all, it was not so much he who had desired this match asRoberts, and as long as the senator was willing to withdraw, he couldmake no objection. He wondered what part, if any, his son had played inbringing about this sensational denouement to a match which had been sodistasteful to him, and it gratified his paternal vanity to think thatJefferson after all might be smarter than he had given him credit for.
At this juncture Mr. Bagley entered the room. He was a little takenaback on seeing the senator, but like most men of his class, hisself-conceit made him confident of his ability to handle any emergencywhich might arise, and he had no reason to suspect that this hastysummons to the library had anything to do with his matrimonial plans.
"Did you ask for me, sir? he demanded, addressing his employer.
"Yes, Mr. Bagley," replied Ryder, fixing the secretary with a look thatfilled the latter with misgivings. "What steamers leave to-morrow forEngland?"
"To-morrow?" echoed Mr. Bagley.
"I said to-morrow," repeated Ryder, slightly raising his voice.
"Let me see," stammered the secretary, "there is the White Star, theNorth German Lloyd, the Atlantic Transport--" "Have you anypreference?" inquired the financier.
"No, sir, none at all."
"Then you'll go on board one of the ships to-night," said Ryder. "Yourthings will be packed and sent to you before the steamer sailsto-morrow."
The Hon. Fitzroy Bagley, third son of a British peer, did notunderstand even yet that he was discharged as one dismisses a housemaidcaught kissing the policeman. He could not think what Mr. Ryder wantedhim to go abroad for unless it were on some matter of business, and itwas decidedly inconvenient for him to sail at this time.
"But, sir," he stammered. "I'm afraid--I'm afraid----"
"Yes," rejoined Ryder promptly, "I notice that--your hand is shaking."
"I mean that I----"
"You mean that you have other engagements!" said Ryder sternly.
"Oh no--no but----"
"No engagement at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning?" insisted Ryder.
"With my daughter?" chimed in the senator.
Mr. Bagley now understood. He broke out in a cold perspiration and hepaled visibly. In the hope that the full extent of his plans were notknown, he attempted to brazen it out.
"No, certainly not, under no circumstances," he said.
Ryder, Sr. rang a bell.
"Perhaps she has an engagement with you. We'll ask her." To the butler,who entered, he said: "Tell Miss Roberts that her father would like tosee her here."
The man disappeared and the senator took a hand in cross-examining thenow thoroughly uncomfortable secretary.
"So you thought my daughter looked pale and that a little excursion toBuffalo would be a good thing for her? Well, it won't be a good thingfor you, young man, I can assure you of that!"
The English aristocrat began to wilt. His assurance of manner quitedeserted him and he stammered painfully as he floundered about inexcuses.
"Not with me--oh dear, no," he said.
"You never proposed to run away with my daughter?" cried the iratefather.
"Run away with her?" stammered Bagley.
"And marry her?" shouted the senator, shaking his fist at him.
"Oh say--this is hardly fair--three against one--really--I'm awfullysorry, eh, what?"
The door opened and Kate Roberts bounced in. She was smiling and fullof animal spirits, but on seeing the stern face of her father and thepitiable picture presented by her faithful Fitz she was intelligentenough to immediately scent danger.
"Did you want to see me, father?" she inquired boldly.
"Yes, Kate," answered the senator gravely, "we have just been having atalk with Mr. Bagley, in which you were one of the subjects ofconversation. Can you guess what it was?"
The girl looked from her father to Bagley and from him to the Ryders.Her aristocratic lover made a movement forward as if to exculpatehimself but he caught Ryder's eye and remained where he was.
"Well?" she said, with a nervous laugh.
"Is it true?" asked the senator, "that you were about to marry this mansecretly?"
She cast down her eyes and answered:
"I suppose you know everything."
"Have you anything to add?" asked her father sternly.
"No," said Kate shaking her head. "It's true. We intended to run away,didn't we Fitz?"
"Never mind about Mr. Bagley," thundered her father. "Haven't you aword of shame for this disgrace you have brought upon me?"
"Oh papa, don't be so cross. Jefferson did not care for me. I couldn'tbe an old maid. Mr. Bagley has a lovely castle in England, and one dayhe'll sit in the House of Lords. He'll explain everything to you."
"He'll explain nothing," rejoined the senator grimly. "Mr. Bagleyreturns to England to-night. He won't have time to explain anything."
"Returns to England?" echoed Kate dismayed.
"Yes, and you go with me to Washington at once."
The senator turned to Ryder.
"Good-bye Ryder. The little domestic comedy is ended. I'm grateful itdidn't turn out a drama. The next time I pick out a son-in-law I hopeI'll have better luck."
He shook hands with Jefferson, and left the room followed by hiscrestfallen daughter.
Ryder, who had gone to write something at his desk, strode over towhere Mr. Bagley was standing and handed hi
m a cheque.
"Here, sir, this settles everything to date. Good-day."
"But I--I--" stammered the secretary helplessly.
"Good-day, sir."
Ryder turned his back on him and conversed with his son, while Mr.Bagley slowly, and as if regretfully, made his exit.