Suddenly she seized his arm. "But you have not yet thought it over--you have not considered," she cried rapidly. "I cannot take no for your answer. I beg you, I implore you, to take the case." He seemed to be struggling between two desires. A slender, well-knit hand stretched out and clutched a ruler; his brow was moist; but he kept silent. "Mr. Blake, I beg you, I implore you, to reconsider," she feverishly pursued. "Do you not see what it will mean to my father? If you take the case, he is as good as cleared!" His voice came forth low and husky. "It is because it is beyond my power to clear him that I refuse." "Beyond your power?" "Listen, Katherine," he answered. "I am glad you believe your father innocent. The faith you have is the faith a daughter ought to have. I do not want to hurt you, but I must tell you the truth--I do not share your faith." "You refuse, then, because you think him guilty?" He inclined his head. "The evidence is conclusive. It is beyond my power, beyond the power of any lawyer, to clear him." This sudden failure of the aid she had so confidently counted as already hers, was a blow that for the moment completely stunned her. She sank back in her chair and her head dropped down into her hands. Blake wiped his face with his handkerchief. After a moment, he went on in an agitated, persuasive voice: "I do not want you to think, because I refuse, that I am any less your friend. If I took the case, and did my best, your father would be convicted just the same. I am going to open my heart to you, Katherine. I should like very much to be chosen for that senatorship. Naturally, I do not wish to do any useless thing that will impair my chances. Now for me, an aspirant for public favour, to champion against the aroused public the case of a man who has--forgive me the word--who has betrayed that public, and in the end to lose that case, as I most certainly should--it would be nothing less than political suicide. Your father would gain nothing. I would lose--perhaps everything. Don't you see?" "I follow your reasons," she said brokenly into her hands, "I do not blame you--I accept your answer--but I still believe my father innocent." "And for that faith, as I told you, I admire and honour you." She slowly rose. He likewise stood up. "What are you going to do?" he asked. "I do not know," she answered dully. "I was so confident of your aid, that I had thought of no alternative." "Your father has tried other lawyers?" "Yes. They have all refused. You can guess their reason." He was silent for an instant. "Why not take the case yourself?" "I take the case!" cried Katherine, amazed. "Yes. You are a lawyer." "But I have never handled a case in court! I am not even admitted to the bar of the state. And, besides, a woman lawyer in Westville---- No, it's quite out of the question." "I was only suggesting it, you know," he said apologetically. "Oh, I realized you did not mean it seriously."