"For business that could not wait." Macgowan nodded, and lowered his voice. "You recall what I warned you about? Well, this shows. Reese is going to take your father's business away from him, for his own sake. It has to be done. Consolidated will profit by it, of course. Don't mention this to any one, even to your mother. It's been all cut and dried for some time. I'm sorry. Don't blame Reese; cure him." He turned and went his way after Williams. Dorothy stood motionless, as though his words had stricken something far inside of her. Her mother appeared, her bridesmaids crowded about with wondering exclamations, questions, perturbed faces. A babel of voices surrounded them. "It's nothing," said Dorothy, calmly enough, though her voice was strained. "A little matter of business that came up unexpectedly. Father and Reese have had to hold a meeting. Mother, I think I'll sit down for a minute--" She passed through them, went to her own room, closed the door. Then she sank down on the bed, a sudden fierce anger filling her blue eyes. "Why did he say that?" she murmured. "A lie--a lie! And the venom in his eyes--oh, I can't forget his eyes! He hates me because I've come between him and Reese. He hates me, and now he tells me this awful lie, tries to make trouble between us! He can't. I'll not believe him. I'll pay no attention to him--" Her emotion culminated in a burst of tears. It never really occurred to her for a moment that the lie might have held any grain of truth. CHAPTER II Upon the issue of this meeting in the library of Fortescue Deming there directly depended larger things than any of the men present might guess. "Food Products," otherwise the Deming Food Products Company, was an old and honorable concern with large mills which turned out all manner of delectables from raw flour to breakfast foods. The men who directed the destinies of this company now sat about the library table of their president, wondering what the devil Reese Armstrong and his lawyer were doing here. Armstrong actually had a better comprehension of the company and its situation than anybody could have dreamed. The summons from Deming had caught him while dressing, and he was in his shirt sleeves; but his manner lacked the nervous anxiety of the others about him. They feared the blow that was about to fall, and dreaded its consequences. Armstrong could have told them exactly what was going to happen to Food Products and to them, within the next few moments. He did not know, however, just what the result of all this was going to be to himself. Lawrence Macgowan alone might have told him that.