And here and there on the restless, ever-moving surface of the shadowy, never-ending flood twinkled the reflection of a star. CHAPTER XXII. AT THE EMPIRE CONSOLIDATED SAVINGS BANK. The President of the Empire Consolidated Savings Bank looked up from the papers on his desk as his secretary entered from the adjoining room and stood before him. “Well, George?” The secretary smiled as he spoke: “Mr. Ward, there is an old lady out here who insists that you will see her. The boys passed her on to me, because,--well, she is not the kind of woman that can be refused. She has no card, but her name is Wakefield. She--” The dignified President of the Empire Consolidated Savings Bank electrified his secretary by springing from his chair like a schoolboy from his seat at the tap of the teacher's dismissing bell. “Auntie Sue! I should say she couldn't be refused! Where is she?” And before the secretary could collect his startled thoughts to answer, Homer T. Ward was out of the room. When the smiling secretary, the stenographers, and other attending employees had witnessed a meeting between their dignified chief and the lovely old lady, which strengthened their conviction that the great financier was genuinely human, President Ward and Auntie Sue disappeared into the private office. “George,” said Mr. Ward, as he closed the door of that sacred inner sanctuary of the Empire Consolidated Savings Bank, “remember I am not in to any one;--from the Secretary of the Treasury to the Sheriff, I am not in.” “I understand, sir,” returned the still smiling George. And from that moment until Homer T. Ward should open the door, nothing short of a regiment could have interrupted the interview between Auntie Sue and her old pupil. Placing the dear old lady tenderly in a deep, leather-upholstered chair, Mr. Ward stood before her as though trying to convince himself that she was real; while his teacher of those long-ago, boyhood days gazed smilingly up at him. “What in the name of all that is unexpected are you doing here, Auntie Sue?” he demanded; “and why is not Betty Jo with you? Isn't the girl ever coming home? There is nothing the matter with her, is there? Of course not, or you would have wired me.” It was not at all like the bank president to ask so many questions all at once. Auntie Sue looked around the private office curiously, then smilingly back to the face of the financier. “Do you know, Homer,” she said with her chuckling little laugh, “I--I--am almost afraid of you in here. Everything is so grand and rich-looking; and there were so many men out there who tried to tell me you would not see me. I--I am glad I didn't know it would be like this, or I fear I never could have found the courage to come.” Homer T. Ward laughed, and then--rather full-waisted as he was--went down on one knee at the arm of her chair so as to bring his face level with her eyes.