"Aren't there laws against such crimes?"

"Yes," replied Miss Masters, "but these laws were made by men, and men have always shown an unwillingness to legislate against their s.e.x. Now there were some young men in Millville at the time your sister went away, weren't there?"

"Yes," admitted Patience, "two."

"Do you know their names?"

"Martin Druce."

"Ah!"

"You know him?"

"I have seen him." Miss Masters opened her memorandum book. "Martin Druce," she read, "dealer in live stock."

"Yes," a.s.sented Patience, "he told us that was his business."

"And the other stranger, Miss Welcome? Do not hide any of the facts."

"I'd rather not say," replied Patience hesitatingly.

"You had better tell me," urged Miss Masters.

"I--I can't," exclaimed the girl, "it hurts me even to think that he--"

"Better tell me," Miss Masters persisted.

"The other young man," said Patience, "was--Harry Boland."

"What?" exclaimed Miss Masters sharply.

"You know Harry Boland?" Patience flushed and stood up.

"I do. You are in the Bolands' outer offices at this moment."

She had scarcely spoken when the door of Harry Boland's office opened and the young man came out.

Patience drew her heavy veil down over her face and darted toward the outer door.

"Here is a corrected form of that contract, Miss Masters," said young Boland brusquely.

CHAPTER XVI

JOHN BOLAND MEETS MARY RANDALL

But Patience did not leave the office of the Lake City Electrical Company as quickly as she had hoped to do. She was intercepted by the young man, who deliberately placed himself between her and the door, effectually blocking the way.

He eyed the small figure in black with an inquisitiveness which was almost rude, attempting to peer through the meshes of the heavy veil, as he spoke to Miss Masters:

"I beg your pardon, I thought you were alone."

Before she could reply a rasping voice called from the inner office:

"Oh, Harry, send Miss Masters in here, will you?"

"The Governor wants you, Miss Masters," said Harry, his eyes still on Patience.

"I'm coming, Mr. Boland," proclaimed the stenographer.

With only a glance at her companions, she made a detour of the desk in the center of the room and glided into the other office.

"I'm afraid Miss Masters may be kept busy for some time," volunteered Harry kindly, "but if--if you care to wait--"

Patience only bowed her head and attempted to pa.s.s him; but she caught her breath quickly and her body swayed slightly, but perceptibly.

"I beg your pardon," went on Harry, fencing for time.

Again endeavoring to pa.s.s him, she staggered and put out one hand to steady herself, which Harry clasped quickly.

"Let me help you," he said.

She made a movement to release her hand as she recovered from the dizziness which had seized her.

"Better put up your veil, dear," said Harry gently. "I'm sure it is you."

"Please!" pleaded Patience. The word was scarcely audible.

"Put up your veil," he persisted.

When she complied, he gazed into her deep, dark eyes and stroked her hand tenderly.

"Did you think I could be in the same room with you and not know you? Oh, my dear--"

"No, Harry, no!" protested Patience, withdrawing her hand.

"If you knew how long and patiently I've searched for you, I don't think you could be so unkind."

"It's the only safe way," she replied, stepping away from him and clutching the back of a chair.

"Why?" he asked as he went close to her again.

"Because--because--"

"Because you do really care for me and you're fighting against yourself."