"Yes, Dick, and I think he's the dearest old man alive. He was most charming. He isn't really a bit horrid. My letter dismissing Mr. Ormsby was posted at his own request. So, if you want me, Dick, I am yours still. More wonderful still, he told me things I could hardly believe." "He's a frightful old liar, is grandfather." "I don't think he was lying, Dick. You'll laugh at his latest eccentricity. He told me he would alter his will and leave everything to me--not to you--to me." "But why?" "Well, I suppose--I suppose that he thought--" Dora played with the fringe of the rug on Dick's knee as she still knelt by his side, and seemed embarrassed. "I think I understand," laughed Dick. "He's taken a fancy to you." "Yes, Dick, I think he has. It is because he thinks--that you have taken a fancy to me--that--oh, well, can't you understand?" She rested her cheek against his, and, as he folded her to his heart, he understood. "So, grandfather has turned matchmaker. I'll warrant he thinks you are a skinflint, and will take care of his money." "That's it, Dick. He thinks I'm the most economical person. I saw him looking at my dress, a cheap, tweed walking affair. Oh, good gracious, if he had seen my wardrobe at home, or the housekeeping and the stable accounts!" "Then, you'll have to keep it up, darling. Next time you go to see him, borrow a dress from your maid." "Dick, your grandfather talked of getting you out of your scrape. What does that mean? If he pays the seven thousand dollars, will it get you off?" "It is not a question of money, now. It is a question of the penitentiary, darling. And I don't see that it is fair to hold you to any pledges. I've got to go through with this business. You couldn't marry an ex-convict." "Dick, if you are not guilty, if you have done no wrong, you are shielding someone else who has." Dora arose to her feet impatiently, and stood looking down almost angrily. "Dora, Dora, don't force it out of me!" he pleaded. "If you think a little, you'll understand." "I have thought. I can understand nothing. They told me that your mother's checks--" Even as she spoke, she understood. The knowledge flashed from brain to brain. "Oh, Dick--your mother!--Mrs. Swinton! Oh!" "Grandfather drove her to it, Dora. You mustn't be hard on her." "And she let them accuse you--her son--when you were supposed to have died gloriously--oh, horrible!" "Ah, that's the worst of being a newspaper hero. The news that I'm home has got abroad somehow, and those journalist fellows are beginning to write me up again. I wish they'd leave me alone. They make things so hard." "Dick, you're not going to ruin your whole career, and blacken your reputation, because your mother hasn't the courage to stand by her wickedness." "It wasn't the sort of thing you'd do, Dora, I know. But mother's different. Never had any head for money, and didn't know what she was doing. She looked upon grandfather's money as hers and mine."