"Your resignation comes just in time, Bingle," he said. "We have a meeting of the board to-morrow. And as for the position, I'm happy to say you can have it almost immediately. Ramsey is leaving. I thought of you this morning when my secretary mentioned the fact. And, by the way, I don't mind saying that we hope to have the Hooper heirs continue their holdings in the bank. The account, as you know, is a large one and we don't want to lose it. Besides, Geoffrey Hooper is the sort of a chap who will help the bank tremendously if we put him on the board. He stands very high socially and is hand in glove with the richest people in town. I am to see him at three o'clock. By Jove, it's nearly three. Excuse me, Bingle, if I appear to hurry you off, but--" "I just wanted to ask how Kathleen is, Mr. Force," said Mr. Bingle, who had not been asked to sit down. "She's all right," said Mr. Force. "Good-bye, Bingle. Tell Bashford I said you were to have Ramsey's place. And, by the way, if I can ever be of any service to you, Bingle, I wish you'd call on me." "Thanks. The job will be enough, I hope, Mr. Force." Force suddenly lowered his eyes. "I'd ask you to come and see Kathleen, Bingle, but--but we're trying to break the child of her homesickness, of her longing to see you. Time, of course, will do it. You will understand, of course, that it is better for her--and for all of us--if she doesn't see you." Mr. Bingle's face shone. "She--she still loves me, then?" he cried softly. Force compressed his lips, and then admitted: "Yes, Bingle, old fellow, she DOES love you. And, hang it all, why shouldn't she? I--I want her to love me and not you. I can't look at you without envy in my soul--eating my soul, do you understand?--and I could almost hate you for the start you got of me in those long years with her. Oh, don't laugh at me, Bingle. Don't stand there grinning like a hyena. I suppose it will please you to hear that the poor child cries nearly every night of her life because she--she misses you. I--" "You can bet it DOES please me," shouted Mr. Bingle. "Wait, Bingle! Don't go. What am I to do? How am I going to put sunshine back into that little girl's face? Lord, man, I--I can't stand it much longer." Mr. Bingle pondered. Then he laid his hat upon the table and took a notebook and pencil from his pocket. While he scribbled, Force looked on in perplexity. "There!" said Mr. Bingle, tearing out the sheet and handing it to the president of the bank. "You may read it, Mr. Force. Give it to her, and see if she doesn't brighten up a bit." Force read the note. He read it aloud, as if that was the only way to get the full meaning of it.