"And to think that you wouldn't look, Charlie! But I might have known it. I don't know what Richard would say," she murmured. "And I don't know what the carpenters will do--the builders. But never mind. It is my own money, anyway, and I'll do what I like with it. Charlie," she said louder, "you must take this. Perhaps I can raise fifty dollars more to-morrow morning. Do I have to write my name on the back?"

Charlie protested again, but his protests were fainter than they had been. He must not overdo it.

Patty had risen from her chair and had gone to her desk. "Perhaps,"

she said doubtfully, "it would be better--you would rather have me cash the check and give you the money." Charlie's protests were reduced to a mere murmur now. "Yes, that will be better."

Charlie looked perplexed. He frowned tremendously and was very solemn.

He, too, seemed to be having a terrible struggle with his conscience.

It is, perhaps, unnecessary to say that he wasn't. Patty watched him fearfully, the check clasped to her bosom and her eyes pitiful. At last he heaved a long, shivering sigh, looked up and met her eyes fixed upon him. There was fear in them and a great love. He had the grace to flush faintly.

"Am I to understand, Pat," he asked slowly, "that you insist upon letting me have this--this money?"

"You must take it, Charlie. You _shall_ take it," she cried fiercely.

"Please do."

"We-ell," he replied, "to please you, I will, since you insist. But I am very unwilling to take it and I wouldn't, from anybody else. I only do it now on condition that you will regard it as a loan which I will repay very soon." How? Did Patty ask herself that question?

"My dear boy!" exclaimed Patty softly. "My dear boy! Think what it is saving you from! You won't have to go to j---- Oh, I can't say it. But you won't have to, now, will you, Charlie? Say you won't."

"No," said he, sighing heavily again, "I guess I won't. But, as far as I am concerned, that is of very little consequence. It is you that I am thinking of. Mother and Sally wouldn't care, except as it would reflect on them, whether I was in jail or not. Of course," he added, with an apparent wish to be fair, "I may be doing them an injustice, but I don't think so. But it is different with you. Aside from the disgrace which I should be bringing down on your head, I think you would feel it, for my sake."

"Feel it!" she murmured. "Feel it! Oh, Charlie, dear! I believe I should die. I know it would kill me."

Charlie smiled sympathetically.

Tears stood in Patty's eyes. "You shall have eight hundred dollars to-morrow morning. I'll get it as soon as the bank is open. And you come here after it. Come early, Charlie. I want you all to myself for a little while."

"Thank you, Pat. I am very grateful."

She looked longingly at him; a look which he seemed not to see.

"Charlie," she said softly.

"Yes, Pat?"

She hesitated for a moment. "K-kiss me, Charlie." Her voice was so low that he scarcely heard her. "Kiss me, won't you, dear?"

And so he did. That was the least he could do.

CHAPTER XV

The blow had fallen. It had fallen upon Patty. The builder had happened to come upon d.i.c.k in the bank; and, being rather pressed for money, he had remarked, half in joke, upon the slowness of the payments from the Hazen estate. Whereat d.i.c.k, very much surprised but trying not to show it, had asked for particulars which the builder was very willing to supply; and the matter having been sifted to the bottom, so far as the builder was concerned, d.i.c.k had, then and there, given him a check for all that was owing him, which was greatly to the builder's gratification and as it should be.

If the matter was sifted to the bottom, so far as the builder was concerned, it was very far from that satisfactory condition so far as Patty was concerned. d.i.c.k went to see Patty and asked her, as delicately and gently as was at all consistent with getting the information that he wanted, what had become of the checks which he had sent her, from time to time? Where had the money gone which was intended for the builder? But Patty stood by her guns and would not tell. They might suspect, but they should not know--from her. She insisted that it was her money, that her father had meant it for her, and she would use it as she pleased without being accountable to anybody.

d.i.c.k, patient, pleasant, but insistent, was unable to get anything more out of her, try as he would, and he had been forced to go away again, baffled and no wiser than he was when he came, except that it was evident that the money had been applied to some purpose which Patty wished to conceal. He was satisfied that it had not been applied to her personal use. Indeed, it was incredible that she could have used so much without having anything to show for it, unless she had fallen into the hands of one of those sharpers who supply trusting women with the stocks and bonds of mythological mines guaranteed to produce a return of three hundred per cent a year. Even in that case, Miss Patty might have shown him the beautiful examples of the engraver's art with which the aforesaid corporations reward their victims.

No, such a condition was not probable. It was much more likely that Charlie Ladue had got it. And because he was morally certain of the use to which the money had been put--as far as Patty was concerned--he was careful not to say anything of his suspicions to anybody. He did not wish them to get to Sally's ears; not until they were something more than suspicions, at least. Supposing that Charlie had received the money, what had he done with it?

So d.i.c.k said nothing, but he drew the lines tighter and made his authority felt. What else could he do? What was his clear duty? It was to be presumed that Mr. Hazen had had such a condition clearly in mind when he drew his will. So Patty found herself with no more, at her immediate command, than her allowance, which d.i.c.k intimated would be made any reasonable amount that she wished; but all of her bills must be sent to him for payment. He thought it the part of wisdom to write this.

The state of mind into which Patty was thrown by this letter may be imagined. "The insolent puppy!" she cried, sitting alone in her room.

It was rather a strong epithet to apply to d.i.c.k Torrington, who never in his life had been anything but kind and protecting. But people seldom wish to be protected against themselves. "Upstart!" That, d.i.c.k certainly was not. "Why, that means that I can't pay my own board. And Miss Miller will think--I don't know what she will think, but the whole town will know about it." Her face crimsoned with mortification.

She thought deeply for some time. "I know what I'll do," she said to herself with determination when she had come to an end of her thinking, which, by the way, she seldom did; not to any logical end.

"I know what I'll do. I will go right out to Doctor Sanderson's. He won't talk. It's a little early to go into the country, but I need a change."

So Patty was quite cheerful, for the time being, while she arranged the change which she needed so badly. Miss Miller was less cheerful and allowed herself to remark that perhaps it was just as well, as Patty didn't seem to be able to pay her bills promptly; able or willing, she didn't know which and it didn't matter much which it was, as far as she could see. But she might have stayed her season out, now that d.i.c.k Torrington was willing to undertake the job of looking after her, and a thankless job it was, as she, Mary Miller, could bear witness. And thereupon Miss Mary Miller turned her back upon Miss Patty and flounced out of the room before Patty should make any suitable reply.

Miss Miller need not have hurried out of the room, for Patty was too much astonished to think of any fitting reply for some time. She sat with her mouth open--a sight which it is to be presumed Miss Miller would have been glad to see--with her mouth open, which was very unusual for Miss Patty, and with her cheerfulness quite gone, which was not at all unusual. After a few minutes she remembered to close her mouth, but she did not resume her cheerfulness. So Miss Miller knew, after all. Patty wondered, vaguely, how she had found out. She did not suspect d.i.c.k, for d.i.c.k had a talent for keeping his own counsel. She could not guess, although she had tried, goodness knew!

And Patty heaved a long sigh and gave it up. Then, if Mary Miller knew, Letty Lambkin knew, and one could be sure that everybody in town, of her acquaintance who would listen to her, would know, too.

As a matter of fact, Letty Lambkin was bursting with information. She went to Mrs. Upjohn's early that year, ostensibly to make that lady some summer clothes, but really because Mrs. Upjohn let her talk freely; I wouldn't say that Mrs. Upjohn encouraged her to talk, for Letty did not need any actual encouragement. But she let her talk, freely, and that was equivalent to encouragement.

"Alicia," Letty began, almost as soon as she had got inside the door, "I s'pose you know about poor Patty. It's the common talk." Mrs.

Upjohn had no chance to reply. "d.i.c.k Torrington's taken it upon himself to manage her affairs, and all Patty has is her allowance. But of course you know that. It seems rather a high-handed thing for d.i.c.k to do, and he only a little tow-headed shaver when Patty was a grown woman. I suppose he has the right to do it, or else he wouldn't. I'm told that Patty was getting into a terrible mess with her property.

She used the checks that were meant for the builder for another purpose, I hear. Poor Mr. Means! And Mary Miller had to wait, too."

Mrs. Upjohn laughed comfortably. "I guess Charlie Ladue could tell something about those checks."

"Like enough he could," said Miss Lambkin, preparing to go to work.

"Where's your cloth, Alicia? Oh, in your room? Don't you stir. I'll get it." She came back immediately. "Well, as I was saying, it's really too bad that Patty's mind is giving way."

"Her mind giving way!" echoed Mrs. Upjohn, surprised out of her usual caution. "Oh, I guess not. Who told you that, Letty?"

"Yes, indeed," said Miss Lambkin with a toss of her head. "Didn't you know that she's been sent out to Doctor Sanderson's Home for Incurables? d.i.c.k sent her out there nearly a month ago. She's as comfortable there as could be expected. I have it on the best of authority--some one connected with the inst.i.tution," she added with a nod and a knowing look.

Mrs. Upjohn laughed again. "I can't believe it, Letty. You must have been misinformed. In the first place, Doctor Sanderson's place isn't a home for incurables."

"I know he doesn't call it that. To tell the truth, I can't find out just what he does call it."

"Can't your best of authority tell you that, too?" asked Mrs. Upjohn slyly.

"Now, Alicia," said Miss Lambkin with asperity, "you needn't go to calling in question my authority. It was one of the nurses, if you must know."

"Doctor Sanderson wouldn't thank her for talking so freely," remarked Mrs. Upjohn. "I should really like to know what he would say about Patty. I understood that she had simply gone there to board."

"I suppose she can call it that, but I don't believe that Doctor Sanderson is running a boarding-house or a hotel either. I always thought that she was bound for the asylum. And, another thing, I had it from the same authority that Meriwether Beatty goes to see her regularly once or twice a week, and he's real kind, too. I leave it to you whether that isn't a sign that he thinks her mind is growing feeble. He always used to say the most brutal things."

"I should say it was rather a sign that Doctor Beatty was losing his mind than that Patty was losing hers," rejoined Mrs. Upjohn.

"Well," said Letty with an air of finality, "you just wait and see if I'm not right."

"I will," said Mrs. Upjohn.

Miss Lambkin glanced at her smiling face and thought it best to change the subject.