"Please let me go," begged Patience.

"No!" returned the young man stoutly.

"What shall I do?" she pleaded distractedly.

"Just turn around," was the smiling retort, "and run straight into the arms of the man who loves you."

"And bring trouble and sorrow on you? No--no--no!"

"I don't understand."

"Please don't ask me," she went on. "I've been through the deep waters of grief and suffering. Harry, I've been hungry."

"Hungry!" exclaimed Harry. "Oh, my poor girl, you must let me--"

Patience shook her head slowly, sadly; an eager light of desire for his love and tender care illuminated her face.

"Do you love me?" pursued the young man fervently.

"You mustn't ask me that--wait!"

"And lose you again?" He laid his hand on one of hers. "No; I want my answer now."

A harsh, commanding voice interrupted them.

"Harry!"

Patience started and drew her hand from beneath the other's touch as an elderly man came into the room.

"Governor!" exclaimed Harry, a little surprised, but entirely composed as he went on:

"Governor, I want you to meet the young lady who is to be my wife."

"What!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed John Boland, scarcely believing his own ears.

"Miss Patience Welcome."

"Welcome?" the older man turned his back to conceal the startled expression which came over his features.

"Yes. This is my good old dad, Patience," said Harry, laying one arm affectionately about his father's shoulders.

"Rather sudden, isn't it?" demanded Boland, senior, in a sharp tone.

But Harry was accustomed to his father's abrupt ways and gave no heed to the testiness of the query.

"No, Governor, I met Miss Welcome when I was in Millville."

"Oh, yes," hemmed John Boland, truculently unmindful of the introduction.

"But just now get that contract off; Miss Masters is waiting."

"All right," a.s.sented Harry cheerfully. Then he turned to Patience. "I won't be long, dear."

Boland placed himself before his desk, covertly watching from beneath his s.h.a.ggy, lowered brows until his son had disappeared. Then he cleared his throat and wheeled upon Patience without ceremony.

"Now, listen, Miss Welcome, you're not taking this seriously, I hope."

"No, Mr. Boland," she replied, moving toward the door. "I've tried to tell Harry how impossible it is--that--"

"You're a sensible girl," he broke in bluntly. "As it happens, Harry is already engaged."

The girl's breath came in short, sharp gasps, but she managed to control her voice as she murmured:

"He is?"

"Yes."

Boland placed his fingers in his vest pocket and drew out a fountain pen, the point of which he examined attentively. Patience felt that she ought to go at once, but somehow she couldn't. She stood there trembling, scarcely knowing whether or not she should believe the other's statement.

She could not believe that Harry would do such an ign.o.ble thing.

Boland glanced over his shoulder and saw her still hesitating on the threshold.

"Yes," he repeated blandly. "He is going to marry the daughter of my business partner--a girl who will inherit half a million."

He could see from the corner of his eye that the shot had told, but still Patience lingered, dazed.

"I--I see," she faltered weakly.

"Now you go along like a good girl," advised Boland, "and I'll see that you are treated fairly."

He opened a pretentious looking check book which lay on the desk.

"Just tell me how much you want and--"

"Nothing!" was the firm, decisive reply.

He eyed the girl critically as he remarked:

"You look as though ready money were a stranger to you."

"It is--but I have a position with the Mining Company in this building."

"I know them," declared Boland thoughtfully. Patience made no comment.

She went on proudly, drawing her figure to its full height:

"And I want nothing; I am _giving_ you back your son, Mr. Boland, I am not selling him to you."

He shrugged his shoulders and stared stupidly at the vacant doorway as he heard the girlish voice in the hallway, saying: