“Don’t talk any more about it, now or ever. You will never be disgraced by having an actress in the family. I would not mind. I love her so much that I would take her no matter what she did, or what her father has done. I have not thought so all the time. I’ve been a coward, and now that I have lost her I’d give a great deal to get her back. I hate myself when I think how I sat hiding in the dark and let her go in alone among those men, and she so dainty and pretty, and—” “Bold!” the judge interrupted him. Herbert made a gesture of impatience and went on: “She is not bold. She is far from it. She was pleading for her father and her face was white as a sheet when she came out, and she accomplished more single-handed than both you and I could have done.” “I don’t know ‘bout that. Don’t know ‘bout that,” the judge exclaimed, not willing to admit that any one could have more influence than he—Judge White, if he chose to exert it. “I know,” Herbert continued, “and there was not a man there who did not think more highly of her and less hard towards her father for what she said. I am ashamed that we who owe her so much have done nothing. But, father, it is not too late and if you can do a favor to Mr. Grey, do it. Show him some attention for my sake and Louie’s. Remember what she did for us a year ago. It was her suggestion that saved our bank. She worked till she fainted. You were grateful then. You were going to make her a present and mother was to write her a note, and you have done nothing of the sort. You have slighted her and let no occasion pass to speak ill of her father, and I don’t like it.” Herbert was showing a courage and manliness, for which Louie would have respected him could she have seen him. And strange to say, his father did not resent it, neither did he reply, but when Herbert had finished his speech and left the room he said to himself: “The boy is hard hit with that little filly, but he’ll get over it, and by George, he is more than half right. I hain’t done the square thing, and it’s funny how different I feel towards Grey from what I did now I know there’s no danger in that quarter. I’m sorry I didn’t make her a present last Christmas, as I said I would; but Herbert blew so about that bellus thing I thought to get her, that I forgot it. I did, upon my soul, and I s’pose Susan forgot to write, but I’ll do something. I don’t know what. I’ll speak to Susan.” He found her in their sleeping room preparing for bed and putting her front hair in crimping pins. “Susan,” he began, “I’ve got the greatest yarn to tell you. What do you think that Grey girl has been and done? In the first place she was engaged to Herbert—” Mrs. White stopped crimping her hair and dropped into a chair.