“Come here, dear!” Lifting one hand in an appealing gesture, he held it poised for a moment and then let it rest gently on a fluffy brown head, which moved slowly and irresolutely near to him. Lifting the girl’s face so that he could look directly into the eyes, he said: “Tell me—have I no right to love you, or to make you—_make_ you love in return? Nothing seems good to me but you; you have my heart and soul to save or destroy; you—little girl—are the keeper of my happiness, my very existence. The miserable days without you have been unbearable; the long nights more miserable still. I love you—do you understand that—_love you_—I want you—and shall have you!” Again he grew fierce, and held the girl so firmly that he felt her struggle for breath. Slowly relaxing his arms and gently placing the girl before him he continued: “Kiss me now, Bess, of your own free will, and that will tell me that you love me.” For a moment she stood silent, dumb. A spasmodic quiver shook her body and trembling eyelids covered her eyes. Her hands went to her heart as if trying to restore its beating, and suddenly she stepped back, flung out her chin, and in a voice almost uncontrollable with emotion said, “I’ll call—Mrs.—West—” and ran out of the room before her admirer could prevent. He stood a moment at the vacant doorway and then, with a sinister smile showing the firm, white teeth set hard together, he said, half audibly: “You—shall!” Bess found Mrs. West and succeeded rather poorly in trying to be calm. The dear, white-haired woman placed her arm lovingly about the girl and led her gently back into the living-room. Mr. Davis was standing with his back to the door as they entered, toying carelessly with the faded roses. “Your beautiful roses were greatly enjoyed and appreciated. We thank you for them, Mr. Davis,” said Bess, in a voice which showed that she had not yet recovered her composure. She still clung to Mrs. West’s hand, as if she needed her assuring clasp. Mrs. West could not refrain a smile at the extra stress which the girl placed on the “we,” and added: “Yes, and you may judge by their condition, Mr. Davis, how greatly they were prized. American Beauties are not plentiful here, and their rarity as well as their beauty makes them doubly dear.” “I am sorry, Mrs. West, to have been so tardy in coming to see you. But I found affairs in great confusion when I returned to the Agency. Will you kindly tell me how much I am indebted to you?” A look of anger and humiliation clouded the woman’s face. She did not reply at once and was relieved from doing so by Bess, who drew herself up to her full height and said with a bravado that astonished both her hearers: “Mr. Davis, do not insult my little Mother by offering money for her kindness towards you. Such indebtedness is only liquidated by—by—gratitude, and by—roses,” she added, glancing at Mrs. West, and pulled the shriveled petals off and dropped them carelessly on the rug.