were now staring at him as if he were some terrible wild beast.

But having gazed, as they hoped furtively, their fill, they melted quickly away from the windows. He was, after all, their employer, the master of their destinies, until——?

He hurried into the hall, and turned into the clerks’ room. “Any one called yet?”

“No, sir, no one.”

The man who spoke to him looked much as usual, the other clerk had a foolish, nervous grin on his face.

He walked on into his own room, took off his hat and coat, sat down, and forced himself to open the letters which lay as usual piled on his desk.

Then he telephoned through to the room where his young lady shorthand writer must be awaiting his summons. But there came no answer to his call.

101He waited five minutes, then tried to get through to her again—without result. Then he got up and went to the clerks’ room. “Where is Miss Faring?” he asked.

101

His head clerk hesitated a moment. “Miss Faring’s mother brought a note about half an hour ago, sir. I’m sorry I forgot it.”

He handed his employer a black-bordered envelope, and Harry Garlett, walking out of the room, opened the note in the hall.

Dear Mr. Garlett

I am sure you will agree with me that under the circumstances it is far better that my daughter should suspend her work with you for the present. I hope you will not think it impertinent of me to say that you and Miss Bower have both been so very kind to Nancy that I trust with all my heart that the terrible things that are being said about you both are not true. Nay, I will go further, dear Mr. Garlett, and say that I am sure they are not true.

Mary Faring

Terrible things said about Jean and himself? This was a far greater, a more agonizing, blow, than anything he had yet experienced.

He walked into his room and, careless of possible interruption, sat down and buried his head in his hands.

Jean—the subject of low, coarse gossip? Jean—the subject of odious innuendo?

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