"But where--where? Tell me!" "That's my secret. You've got to keep your own." "Oh! but I must tell father." "Your father knows it already. He's not to be trusted." "Father knows, and yet--?" "Yet, he'd let you marry Ormsby. It's a way fathers have when they want their daughters to marry rich men. So, you see, he's not as honest as I am. Now, go home like a good girl, and in a day or two you shall hear from Dick. In the meantime, I tell you this much: The boy is ill and broken. You've both been fools. If you had come to me like sensible children, and told me that you wanted to get married, I'd have paid his debts and transferred the burden of responsibility to you--for he is a responsibility, and always will be--mark my words!" "A responsibility I will gladly undertake, grandfather." She dropped on her knees beside the bed, and clasped his hand with a frankness and naturalness quite strange and wonderful to him. He raised her fingers to his lips, and kissed them with unusual emotion. "That's right, call me grandfather. Good girl--good girl!" He reverted to his usual snappy manner. "Put on your gloves, girl. Get away home. Keep a still tongue in your head. Wait till you hear from me. Give me the letter. Trimmer shall post it." [Illustration: "OH, GOOD-BYE--GOOD-BYE, YOU DEAR, DEAR OLD MAN!" SHE CRIED, DROPPING ON HER KNEES BESIDE HIM.--Page 261] Dora obeyed, and watched him as she drew on her gloves. When the last button was fastened, she took up her muff. "Good-bye--good-bye!" he grunted brusquely, offering a bony hand. "Oh, good-bye--good-bye, you dear, dear old man!" she cried, dropping on her knees beside him once more, and flinging her arms around his neck, weeping for joy at the great news. "Get away! Get away! You'll kill me. Enough--enough for one day." She kissed him, and he broke down. When she released him, he fell back on his pillows, breathing heavily. There were tears in his eyes. Trimmer entered at the opportune moment, and opened the door. Dora passed out and ran down the stairs. When in the open air, she wanted to dance, to laugh, to cry, to sing, all at once in the centre of the drive. Only a stern sense of decorum prevented an hysterical outburst. She walked faster and faster, until she almost ran. "Dick! Dick! Dick!" she cried, shouting riotously to the leafless elms in the avenue, and scampering like a joyous child. She waved her arms and sang to the breeze. CHAPTER XXIV DICK EXPLAINS TO DORA Dora hardly knew how she reached home after her visit to Herresford. She had no recollection of anything seen by the way. Her senses swam in an ecstasy too great for words, too intense to allow of impressions from outside. Tears of joy obscured her vision. It was only when she arrived home, and saw her father, and recollected that he had deceived her wilfully, that she had room in her heart for anything but happiness.