"You knew him, then," said Geraldine eagerly. "He was out here a number o' times. Rufus seemed to be his favorite man o' business, as you might say." "Oh, Mrs. Carder, tell me all you can about his visits here." The girl's heart began to beat faster and she drew the clean, dried-up old woman down upon the edge of the bed beside her. Why should her father choose this dreadful place, this impossible man as a refuge? It could only have been as a last resort for him, just as it now was for her. "I was always away at school after his marriage," she went on. "I saw so little of him." Mrs. Carder looked uneasy. "I saw nothin' of him except at a meal sometimes. He and my son was always shut up in Rufus's office." "Did he seem--seem unhappy, Mrs. Carder?" "Well--yes. He was a sort of an absent-minded man. Perhaps that was his way. Really, I don't know a thing about their business, Miss Melody." The addition was made in sudden panic because the girl had grasped both the wrinkled hands and was gazing searchingly into the old woman's face as if she would wring information out of her. "You wouldn't tell me if you did," said Geraldine in a low voice. "You are afraid of your son. I saw it in your eyes downstairs. Had my father reason to be afraid of him? Tell me that. That is what I want to know." "Your father is dead. What difference does it make?" asked the old woman, looking from side to side as if for a means of escape from the strong young hands and eyes. "Yes, poor Daddy. Well, I have come to help you, Mrs. Carder." The speaker released the wrinkled hands and the old woman rose in relief. "I have come to work for you, not for your son, and I am not going to be afraid of him." The mother shook her head. "We all work for him, my dear. He holds the purse-strings." Geraldine seemed to see him holding the actual bag and leering at her over it with his odious, oblique eye and smile. "And let me give you a word of advice," continued the old woman, lowering her voice and looking toward the door. "Don't make him mad. It's terrible when he's angry." She winked and lowered her voice to a whisper. "He's crazy about you and he's the biggest man in the county." The old woman nodded and snapped her eyes knowingly. "You've got a home here for life if you don't make him mad. For life. I'll go down and make the tea. You come down pretty soon." She disappeared, leaving Geraldine standing in the middle of the room. She looked about her at the cheap, meager furniture, the small mirror that distorted her face, the bare outlook from the window. "For life!" she repeated to herself. "For life!" CHAPTER III The Prince Miss Upton's accounts were still in a muddle when she reached Keefe. Try as she might her unruly thoughts would wander back to the golden hair and dark, wistful eyes of that forlorn girl. "I was such a fool to lose her!" she kept saying to herself. "Such a fool."