at Laura; her eyes were filled with wonder. I felt that for the moment anger had made her father reckless, and anything was better than that between us the edge of our secret should peep out. "We have been introduced," I said, trying to smile. Guest dropped my hand as if it burned him, and walked the length of the room.
"You should have told me!" Laura added, in a tone of almost familiar reproach.
"Miss Guest," I answered, hardly knowing what I said, "the world is so wide—"
"Upon my soul, I think it's damnably narrow!" cried Guest, who had turned very pale. I determined then that he should know the worst. "I'm here with a purpose, Mr. Guest," I said; "I love your daughter."
He stopped short, fairly glaring at me. Laura stepped toward him and laid her two hands on his arm. "Something is wrong," she said, "very wrong! It's your horrible money-matters! Weren't you really then so generous?" and she turned to me.
Guest laid his other hand on hers as they rested on his arm and patted them gently. "My daughter," he said solemnly, "do your poor father a favor. Dismiss him forever. Turn him out of the house," he added, fiercely.
"You wrong your daughter," I cried, "by asking her to act so blindly and cruelly."
"My child," Guest went on, "I expect you to obey!"
There was a silence. At last Laura turned to me, excessively pale. "Will you do me the very great favor," she said, with a trembling voice, "to leave us?"
I reflected a moment. "I appreciate your generosity; but in the interest of your own happiness, I beg you not to listen to your father until I have had a word with him alone."
She hesitated and looked, as if for assent, at her father. "Great heavens, girl!" he cried, "you don't mean you love him!" She blushed to her hair and rapidly left the room.
Guest took up his hat and removed a speck of dust from
