“We might walk on to my office; it is always cool. I never bother to shut the windows, even before a rain.” “Yes, if--if you wish it, Wynn; that is, if you wish to--to see me.” “Yes, I want to talk to you, Fred.” They walked side by side along the pavement. Walton had his hat off, and was wiping his face with his handkerchief. Once his foot struck against some object, and he almost fell. Something like an oath of impatience escaped his lips as he drew himself up and caught the slow, deliberate step of his companion. Reaching the door of his office, Dearing unlocked it, pushed it open, and they entered the little reception-room in the dark. The doctor struck a match and lighted a lamp on a table, and pointed to a rocking-chair. “Take a seat, Fred.” A cold smile which gave his face almost a wry look lay on his firm mouth as he himself sat down near a table on which lay some books and magazines. He had not removed his eyes from his companion, who, hat in hand, was settling heavily into the big chair. “I've got an unpleasant duty before me, Fred--darned unpleasant, because we've been friends all our lives, and--” “That's all right, Wynn, go ahead.” “It is about you and my sister, Fred.” “I was afraid it was that, Wynn,” the young man muttered. “The thought came to me when I heard your voice in the dark just now. Well, nothing you can say will surprise me. I am prepared for anything--for the very worst; in fact, I am prepared to have Marga--pardon me, your sister--send me word that she herself wishes to see no more of me.” “I have no such message as _that_, Fred, but still it is my duty to lay the facts before you just as they are; and I am going to do it, with the hope, old man, that you'll be reasonable and--help me out.” In a calm voice, full of sincerity and stern conviction, Dearing then recounted all that had taken place between him and his uncle, ending with: “I give you my word, Fred, and the opinion of a physician who knows the case, that my uncle is not only likely to worry himself into the grave over the matter, but that he will absolutely, and at once, cut my sister out of her rightful inheritance.” “But she--surely she herself will tell General Sylvester that she is willing to--forget me, and--” Dearing, without looking directly at the speaker, shook his head. “It is only fair to her to say that she is not made that way, Fred. She believes in you; nothing on earth will change her; she believes you are the soul of honor, and is ready to throw my uncle's money into his face. That's why I came to you--to _you_. I thought, and Uncle Tom did, too, that under the circumstances you might, you see, rather than stand between her and--”