"No, no, not all of it," Jones hastily threw in, for now the door was opening and Dunwoodie appeared. "Keep a pear for your thirst, put a little million aside." He turned to the lawyer. "Mrs. Paliser accepts her responsibilities." "Hum! Ha!" The great man sat down and looked at Cassy. He looked many things but he said very few. "My dear young lady, familiar as you are with Latin, with law and with literature, who am I to remind you that chickens should first be hatched? Your rights may be contested. The Paliser Case, as it will be called, may----" "The Paliser Case!" interjected Jones, who could see the headline from where he sat. "Shade of Blackstone! It will be famous! It will be filmed! The eminent jurist here will be screened and you, too, my lady." Balefully Dunwoodie shot a glance at the inkbeast and another at Cassy. "It may last some time. I have no doubt of the result. None whatever. But in spite of your legal knowledge I suggest that you have associate counsel. Now, permit me to ask, would you care to retain me or would you prefer some one else?" Cassy, who had dried her eyes, looked at him and it was remarkable how pretty she looked. "Why, no, Mr. Dunwoodie, I would much rather have you, only----" Uncertainly she paused. The eminent jurist took it up. "Only what?" "Well, all I know about law is that it is very expensive and I have nothing except my grandfather's portrait." Dunwoodie touched a button. "Ha! One moment." A thin young man, with a pasty face and a slight stoop, opened the door. The old ruffian raised a stubby finger. "Purdy, a cheque for a thousand dollars, to the order of Bianca Paliser, is to be mailed to this lady to-night." "But, Mr. Dunwoodie!" Cassy exclaimed. "You must allow me to be your banker," he told her, and turned again to the clerk. "Get Mr. Jeroloman. Say, with my compliments, I shall be obliged if he will look in here. And, Purdy, see to it that that cheque is attended to. Mrs. Paliser will give you her address." "But, Mr. Dunwoodie!" Cassy exclaimed again, as the sallow youth went out. To distract her attention, instantly Jones improvised a limerick. "There was a young man named Purdy, who was not what you'd call very sturdy. To be more of a sport, he drank gin by the quart, and danced on a hurdy-gurdy." "You're insane," announced Cassy, who was a trifle demented herself. Dunwoodie extracted his towel. "Jeroloman is the attorney for the other side. He will want to meet Mrs. Paliser, but that honour will not be his to-day." Cassy stood up. "I should hope not. He would be the last camel on the straw--I mean the last straw on the camel." Dunwoodie, rising also, gave her his fine bow and to Jones a hand. Then as the two made for the door, from over her shoulder she smiled back at him. "My grandmother could not have been nicer." "What do you mean by that?" Jones absently inquired.