They were closing up, and the discipline of the shop was over. Instead of pallor, there was an angry crimson in Mildred's cheeks, and an indignant fire in her eyes. She evidently was deeply incensed, and her companions apparently were as greatly amused. When she saw Roger the crimson deepened in her face, her brow knitted in strong vexation, and she went on with her task of putting the goods under her charge in order, as if she had not seen him; but the thought flashed through her mind: "Oh that he were to me what he is to Belle! Then he might punish my insolent persecutor, but he's the last one in the world to whom I can appeal. Oh, where's papa?" "Miss Jocelyn--" "Don't you see you have another beau?" whispered one of her companions as she passed out. "You won't treat this one with words and manner that are the same as a slap in the face, for he's too good-looking." She paid no heed to the gibe, for the young man's tone was significant, and she had lifted her eyes to his with eager questioning. His grave, sad face banished the flush from hers instantly. "Miss Jocelyn," Roger began again, in a low tone, "you have already learned to associate me with painful experiences. I cannot help it. But this, my misfortune, is nothing; you must nerve yourself for anxiety that will test even your strength. Your father is home, and ill. I will not explain further before strangers. Belle and a physician are awaiting you in the carriage." How quiet and measured were his words; but even in her distress she was painfully conscious that the slight tremor in his voice was the low vibration of a feeling whose repressed intensity would sooner or later break forth. Beyond a momentary shrinking from what seemed to her but well-mastered vehemence, she gave him no thought in her overwhelming solicitude. Scarcely a moment elapsed before she joined him at the door. As he placed her in the carriage he said, "Dr. Benton will explain to you what has happened." "Roger--" sobbed Belle, but he sprang on the box with the driver, and in a few moments they were at the door of the old mansion. "Dr. Benton," said the young man, "will you please accompany Miss Jocelyn? After the fatigue of the day and the shock of this evening she will need your support," and he saw that she leaned heavily on the physician's arm. Having dismissed the carriage, he found Belle leaning against the side of the house, faint and trembling. The young athlete lifted her in his arms and bore her steadily and easily to the doorway, and then again up the winding stairway. "Belle," he whispered, "if you lose your father you shall at least have a brother." She entwined her arm about his neck in mute acceptance of the relationship. Her every breath was a low sob, and she could not then tell him how his words reassured her, taking away, in part, the almost overwhelming terror of being left unprotected in the world.