"Father!" cried Lola, indignantly. "Mr. Fenway! The idea!" The Doctor turned the page quickly and read the signature, then exclaimed to her in wonder, "John Dorris! And I thought he only came here to talk to me! Did you know anything of this?" "Anything?" replied Lola. "Well, I--I told him to write to you." [Illustration: JAMES YOUNG AS DICK FENWAY.] For just a moment he hesitated; they were alone together in the world, these two, and the bond between them had been very close, and now all was to be changed; this stranger, a man, whom a few months before they had never seen, had stepped into their lives, and never again would this man's child be to him quite what she had been for so many peaceful, happy years. Something of the bitterness of this thought must have become visible in his face, for Lola stepped to him anxiously, and he, generous and afraid of hurting any living creature as he always was, smiled at her tenderly and put his arm about her as he spoke gravely: "God bless you Lola, and if he is the right man, God bless you both." She nestled against him, reassured by his tone, and he continued, "John Dorris, a fine fellow, but I thought for a moment that it must be Dick Fenway." "Father," she protested, "it isn't at all like you to be so silly! Dick Fenway is nothing but--but a millionaire!" "Am I supposed to sympathize with him for that?" inquired the Doctor gravely. "But, my dear," he added, as he saw that she was mutely appealing for his sympathy, "I like your young man best, although he is like the rest of us; he isn't half good enough for the woman he loves." He led her tenderly into the front room, and seating himself in his favorite old chair, drew her down upon one of its sturdy arms, and began to question her about John Dorris. At first she was conscious and embarrassed, but little by little, reassured by his sympathy, she opened her heart to him, and let him see that this new love that had come into her life was not a passing fancy, but a feeling so pure and tender that he sat awed before it, as all good men are awed when for a moment it is permitted them to read the secrets of a woman's heart. He helped her greatly in that half hour, and as she clung to him, timid, half afraid even of her own happiness, he spoke to her of her mother and of what her love had been to him. In all the world I think there is no stronger tie, no closer sympathy, than there is between a father and a daughter, and these two felt that then, and gloried in it, never dreaming of that awful thing that was so soon to come between them. At last he left her, and went to change his clothes, and when Maria entered the room ten minutes later, she still sat there, her lover's letter in her hand, her mind filled with strange, new thoughts, half happiness, half fear. Maria went to her, and seeing the look on her face, and the open letter in her hand, said timidly, "That's a letter from him?" "Yes," smiled Lola happily, "from him!"