Thinking it was Lawrence who knocked, he bade him come in at once, but a frown flitted over his face when he saw that it was his niece. “I supposed you were Lawrence,” he said. “I heard he was at home. What brought him so soon?” In a few words Geraldine told of the accident, and then, when the father’s feeling of alarm had subsided, Mr. Thornton asked: “Did he come to an understanding with Lilian?” “Yes, I think she understands him perfectly,” was Geraldine’s reply, at which Mr. Thornton caught quickly. “They are engaged, then? I am very glad,” and the word “Insolvent” passed from his mental horizon, leaving there instead bonds and mortgages, bank stocks, city houses, Western lands and ready money at his command. But the golden vision faded quickly when Geraldine repeated to him what she knew of Lawrence and Mildred Howell. “Not engaged to _her_? Oh, Heavens!” and Mr. Thornton’s face grew dark with passion; “I won’t have it so. I’ll break it up. I’ll nip it in the bud,” and he strode across the floor, foaming with fury and uttering bitter invectives against the innocent cause of his wrath. “Sit down, Uncle Robert,” said Geraldine, when his wrath was somewhat expended. “The case isn’t as hopeless as you imagine. A little skill on my part, and a little firmness on yours, is all that is necessary. Lilian surprised them before Lawrence had asked the question itself, but he has written to-night and the letter is in the office. Mildred will receive it, of course,—there’s no helping that; but we can, I think, prevent her answering yes.” “How,—how?” Mr. Thornton eagerly demanded, and Geraldine replied: “You know that if they are once engaged, no power on earth can separate them, for Lawrence has a strong will of his own, and what we have to do is to keep them from being engaged.” “No necessity for repeating that again,” growled Mr. Thornton. “Tell me at once what to do.” “Simply this,” answered Geraldine: “Do not awake Lawrence’s suspicions, though if, when you meet him to-night, he gives you his confidence, you can seem to be angry at first, but gradually grow calm, and tell him that what is done can’t be helped.” “Well, then, what?” interrupted Mr. Thornton, impatient to hear the rest. “Mildred will receive his letter to-morrow night,” said Geraldine, “and as it is Saturday, she cannot answer until Monday, of course. In the meantime you must go to see her——” “Me!” exclaimed Mr. Thornton. “I go to Beechwood to rouse up that old lion! It’s as much as my life is worth. You don’t know him, Geraldine. He has the most violent temper, and I do not wish to make him angry with me just at present.”