"Now don't begin on the Old Home stuff," he replied, testily. "I haven't changed any more than you have. Why, ma used to think you'd play dead or jump through whenever she snapped her finger, but--you're getting tough-bitted. You're getting sanctimonious in your old age. Where you got it from I don't know--not from ma, surely, nor from dad; he's a cheater and always has been." "JIM!" "Oh, you know it. I'm wondering--how long you'll stand pat." "What do you mean?" "Do you really intend to marry a bunch of coin?" "That's the program, isn't it? I've been raised for that, and nothing else." "Well, ma can't put it over, so I guess it's up to me. Just leave things to Brother Jim, and don't worry over what happens. Nobody along Broadway pays any attention to this rot." He indicated the newspaper with a wave of his cigar. After a moment he added, "Would you accept Merkle?" Lorelei shivered. "Oh--no! Not Mr. Merkle." "Why not? He's all right, and he won't last long." "The idea is--Ugh! He wouldn't ask me, and I sha'n't allow you to use this scandal to--urge him. The proposition sounds all right in the abstract--marriage, money, comfort, everything I want--but when it comes right down to the point--I--always balk." "Humph! You ought to consider the rest of us a little bit. Pa could be cured, ma'd be happy. I could get on my feet. How about Bob Wharton?" "He's a drunkard." "Good Lord, you don't expect to grab a divinity student, do you? That kind never has anything." "Let's not talk about it, please. Mr. Wharton is getting nasty, and--I'm beginning to be afraid of him." "I'll bet you could land him--" "Please. I--don't want to think about it. I dare say I'll bring myself to marry some rich man some day; but--Merkle--Wharton--" She shuddered for a second time. "If Mr. Wharton is serious this scandal will scare him off, or else he'll become--just like the others. I could cry. He threatened me to-night; I don't know how I'll manage to avoid him to-morrow night." "Hm-m! He's coming that strong, eh?" was Jim's interested query; but on hearing his sister's account of the young millionaire's determined pursuit he volunteered in his offhand way to assist her. "I'll come for you myself, and we'll whip over to a cafe for supper." "You'll save me from him," said Lorelei, with a wan smile, "and I'll know that you are in good company for one evening at least." "Don't lose any sleep over my habits," he told her, lightly; "and don't worry yourself about this newspaper story, either. Melcher is in the right, for Hammon cut him out with Lilas. He's after Merkle, too; so you'll have to stand the gaff this time. I'll look up this chap Wharton to-morrow and find out what sort of a farmer's son he really is." As Jim and his mother breakfasted together on the following morning he broached the subject of his recent conversation with Lorelei. "She's sore about the story," he said. "We had a long talk last night."