"No. I thought at that time there was no trouble in the world that could touch my wise, honorable father." Miss Barry moved uncomfortably, watching the girl's expression. "I'd like to say," she put in, "that the ten thousand my brother left me I want should go to make up arrears as far as it can." "Dear Aunt Belinda," said Harriet, putting a hand on her aunt's knee as she sat next her. "Now, we don't any of us want to be quixotic," she went on in her moderate manner. "We want to be calm and sensible." "Harriet," her younger sister turned to her, "we do want to be quixotic, if that is what the world calls returning money secured under false pretenses. So far as I am concerned, there is only one possibility for peace for me, and that is to keep our father's memory as clean before the world as it always has been. I can speak only for my share, of course, but my wish is this: that this house, the motors, and all these belongings, be sold--" "You can keep your electric, Linda," interrupted King. She brought her eyes back to him. "You cannot tell me what I may keep," she answered, slowly and incisively, and the young man frowned wonderingly at her tone. "I want everything sold," she went on. "I want my share of money, property, life insurance, everything, added together, and applied _pro rata_ to the losses of every one who put a misplaced trust in Barry & Co." "Linda--" began Bertram gently. She rose suddenly and turned upon him, her nostrils dilating. "Tell me this, Bertram King. Have you a dollar invested in the Antlers Irrigation Company?" King started to his feet, and viewed the girl in amazement. Her brow was furrowed, and the eyes in her white face blazed. "Speak," she insisted. A flood of color rushed to the man's very forehead as he realized her open enmity. In silence they stood thus for a moment. "I refuse to answer you," he said at last. Her gaze swept him scornfully. "It is what I expected." Then she turned to her sister, speaking gently. "Settle it between you now, Harriet. I suppose I may dispose of my own, and you know my wishes. They won't change." After she had gone out, Harriet seized Bertram's hand as he stood dazed. "Forgive her, Bertram," she said anxiously. "I do believe she's nearly crazy." He sat down again, very pale, and with no comment proceeded to sort his papers. Miss Barry's earrings were trembling, and she thought with longing of the peace of her "Gull's Nest." CHAPTER IX CORRESPONDENCE