“It seems a pity,” quoth Bellows, “to sell her out. Couldn’t you wait till fall, say, and give the little Preston girl a chance? I ain’t what you might call soft m’self; but I’m blamed if I could help feelin’ sorry for the girl when she come in here one day last week t’ engage my professional services.” “What is Miss Preston proposing to sell?” demanded Jarvis. Something in his voice gave Mr. Bellows a curious sensation. He gave Jarvis a sharp look as he answered. “Nothing that belongs to you, I reckon.” “Tell me what it is,” repeated Jarvis. “I’ll be the best judge of that,” His voice shook, and also the hand which held the leather book of fateful dates and occasions. “I’m sorry; but I guess I can’t ’commodate you,” responded the other. “Perfessional etiquette, you know; in this ’ere case binding.” “You have no right to refuse,” said Jarvis, and something of the real nature of his secret thoughts flared up in his eyes. “Everything that concerns Miss Preston concerns me.” Mr. Bellows was puzzled. “Meanin’, of course, that you hold the lien on her prop’ty,” he hazarded. “But you don’t”—and he paused to chuckle to himself—“hold no lien on what she’s propos in’ to sell to the highest bidder?” “What do you mean?” demanded Jarvis. His tone was menacing, and he fixed angry eyes, red from sleeplessness, on the old auctioneer. “You’ll either explain yourself,” he said, “or—you’ll get no more business from me, to-day or any other day.” Mr. Bellows expectorated violently in the general direction of the opposite wall. “I ain’t,” he declared valiantly, “afeard of no threats, nor yet of nobody. But I’m goin’ to tell you, ’cause it’s you that’s drove her to it, an’ you’d ought to know what sort of girl she is. I had three-quarters of a notion to tell you anyhow, an’ I tol’ m’ wife so, when I found it was you that held the lien on her house an’ furniture. Business is business with me as well as any other man; but I’d be ashamed to drive a woman to the point of sellin’ herself.” “_Selling herself!_” echoed Jarvis. The observant eyes of Mr. Bellows were upon him, as he fell back a pace or two and strove to steady himself. “That’s what I said. Yes, sir; she asked me right here in this shop to sell her at public auction. ‘I’ve lost everythin’,’ she says; ‘but I’ve got myself, an’ I’ll sell that, an’ pay what I owe.’” “My God!” breathed Jarvis. “I—drove her to it!” “You’re right, you did,” agreed Mr. Bellows. “You can’t do it, man. I forbid it!” “Oh, y’ do; do ye? Wall, I don’t see how you’re going to make out to prevent it. The girl’s got a right to herself, and I’ve got a right to——” “I shall prevent it,” Jarvis interrupted fiercely. “It’s inhuman—uncivilized, monstrous!”