But after he had left, Mrs. Ridge turned on Milly again. "I don't suppose you know the trouble your father is in." "We're always hard up.... Anything new?" She had been so fully preoccupied with her own affairs these past months she had not realized that the tea and coffee business was getting into worse straits than ever. Everything, she had optimistically reckoned, would be smoothed out by her marriage. "Bankruptcy--that's what's coming," her grandmother informed her, with an acid satisfaction in being able to record the fulfilment of her prophecies. "That comes of your father's trying a new business at his age--and Hoppers' was so sure. He'd have been a department head by now, if he had stayed." "I thought the fair concession made a lot of money." Mrs. Ridge gave her the facts. It seemed that Horatio, always optimistic and trusting, had put this new venture in the hands of a man who had talked well, but had cheated him outrageously, and finally absconded after the close of the Fair, leaving behind debts contracted in the firm's name. The losses had wiped out all the profits of the concession and more, and this, added to the general business depression, was bad enough. But there was worse. Snowden had suddenly demanded his money. Using the defalcation as an excuse he alleged Horatio's bad management, and wanted an immediate settlement of the firm's affairs. That meant the end--bankruptcy, as Mrs. Ridge said. Awful word! "But it's outrageous of Mr. Snowden!" Milly cried. "It seems he's that kind. He got ahead of your father in the partnership agreement, and now the lawyer says he can do anything he likes--sell out the business if he wants to.... And we've got this house on our hands for another year," she added sourly, bringing home to Milly her share in the general misfortune. Then the little old lady gathered up the breakfast dishes, while Milly sat and looked at the dreary wall of the next house. It was pretty bad. Still she could not feel sorry for what she had done.... "I'll see Mr. Snowden myself," she announced at last. Her grandmother looked at her curiously. "What good will that do?" Milly, recollecting the old offence, blushed. Latterly as the prospective wife of a rich man she had assumed certain airs of her putative social position, and thought she could "manage" easily a common sort of person like this Snowden man. Now she realized with a sudden sinking of spirits it was all different. She possessed no longer any authority other than that of an attractive, but poor, young woman with "a good manner."