“Don’t say that, Beatrice!” he cried. “Honest, I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to collect.” “I believe you,” said she. “Please don’t do anything to make me doubt.” “I won’t. I throw up the sponge. I’ll not annoy you any more.” “You’ll be friends?” “I’d hate to lose _your_ friendship,” said he with his slow, heavy earnestness. “It’s the thing I’ve got that’s most worth while.” XVI PETER CALLS ON ROGER Beatrice had carefully avoided learning anything at all about the Wauchong Railway before investing nearly half her fortune in its bonds. She wished to spare herself the temptation to hesitate; and she was too fond of money as a means, too alive to its value, too well trained in the matter of foolish investments, to trust her newly developed virtue far. But now that the thing was done she made thorough inquiry into the affairs of the railway. It did a losing passenger business; it had made its money--very satisfactory earnings--by reason of its northern terminal being in a group of rich coal mines. Her father ruined the road by so juggling traffic agreements with the coal companies that the Wauchong’s whole paying freight business was at a stroke transferred to another road. The bonds were next to worthless. On the face of the facts she had spent forty-one thousand dollars for a few ounces of waste paper. She was glad to find, on searching her heart, that she had not the faintest feeling of regret for her action. It gave her a gratifying opinion of herself to discover that, on the contrary, she regarded her investment with satisfaction and pride. But these emotions did not clash with a strong desire to recover the lost forty-one thousand, if that could be brought about. She gave the matter anxious and intelligent thought. The only plan that came to her and seemed at all practicable was to let it leak out in Wall Street that a big block of the bonds had been taken at more than par by Daniel Richmond’s daughter _after_ the wiping out of the road’s revenues. This news would probably boom the bonds and stocks if sent out adroitly. But Beatrice decided against the scheme; she could not forget the losses to the innocent it would involve. Perhaps the time had been--and not so very long ago, either--when this view of the affair would not have occurred to her. But since then she had experienced, had suffered, had learned. With a sigh she put the bundle of bonds away in her safety-deposit box and entered their cost to profit and loss. Her total income was now reduced to just under twenty-seven hundred a year. “And I need at least that many thousand,” thought she. “Let us see what this dressmaking scheme has in it.”