Two days passed, and Reese Armstrong made uneventful reports to her from Wilmington. The meeting was going slowly. Nothing would be done until after the roll call of the stockholders was taken, which would be on the third or fourth day. So far everything was excellent, and the Protective Association apparently in decisive control. Upon the morning of the third day, while Dorothy was dressing, Slosson arrived at Aircastle Point. Dorothy had passed a bad night, and her nerves were quivering. In her dreams, the voice of her mother had again whispered that old doubt. She no longer had any great fear that any mental obsession would take hold of her, and this was a bad sign. Had Reese actually driven her father out of Food Products? She was wondering now, this morning, whether she should bring up the whole matter with Reese, as soon as his Wilmington battle was over; she felt that he must be absolutely cleared in the eyes of every one, Williams and the rest. This, at least, was her conscious thought. She had no doubt that everything would be explained. She told herself that her love and faith in Reese were supreme, and she believed it. None the less, the mental reflex of her physical condition was a curious one--and one that she did not realize. It was at this moment that Slosson arrived. Dorothy heard his name with astonishment. "At this hour! What does he want?" "He asked for Mr. Armstrong, and seemed a good deal put out to learn he was gone," said the maid. "Then he asked for you. He says it's extremely important." "Tell him I'll be down in a few minutes." Dorothy turned to her mirror, wondering at this unheralded call from Pete Slosson. Instantly there darted into her remembrance the thought of how Slosson had spoken that day at the Waldorf--his manner, rather than his words themselves. He had been so anxious to smooth over her mother's innocent remark, that he must have known more than he said. "I wish now I'd made him say more," reflected Dorothy, giving her hair a final pat. "He seemed genuinely uneasy that day. There was always a lot of good in Pete, for all his reckless ways, and now he seems to have settled down--" She smiled at the reflection which told of her beauty, and there was wonder in her smile, too. For Dorothy was one of those rare women who do not lose, but gain, by the added life within them, and never had the fine, clear lines of her face been so filled with a spiritual grace as now. Pete Slosson was striding restlessly up and down the living room when she found him. At sight of her, he turned. There was no mistaking the light that sprang into his face as he warmly gripped her hands, and this look wakened a slight color in Dorothy's cheeks.