Rose O'Paradise

"No, no," he murmured, sinking back. "It's too late for me. I couldn't earn money enough to feed a pup. I'm all to pieces--no more good to any one. No, you'll have to go alone."

"I'm sorry." The girl caught her breath in disappointment. She was crying softly and made no effort to wipe away her tears.

The silent restraint was broken only by the ticking of the shadowy clock on the mantel and Virginia's broken sobs. She stifled them back as her father spoke comfortingly.

"Well, well, there, don't cry! If your mother'd lived, we'd all 've been better."

"I wish she had," gasped the girl, making a dash at her eyes. "I wish she'd stayed so I'd 've had her to love. Perhaps I'd 've had you, too, then."

"There's no telling," answered Singleton, drawing up to his desk and beginning to write.

Virginia watched the pen move over the white page for a space, her mind filled with mixed emotions. Then she turned her eyes from her father to the grate as a whirl of ashes and smoke came out.

Matty's story came back to her mind, and she glanced toward the window, but back to the fire quickly. The blizzard seemed to rage in sympathy with her own riotous thoughts. As another gust of wind rattled the casements and shook down showers of soot from the chimney, Virginia turned back to the writer.

"It's the ghosts of my mother's folks that make that noise," she confided gently.

"Keep quiet!" ordered Singleton, frowning.

After the letters were finished and sealed, Mr. Singleton spoke. "There! I've done the best I can for you under the circumstances. Now on this,"--he held up a piece of paper--"I've written just how you're to reach Grandoken's in Bellaire. These letters you're to give to him. This one let him open and read." Mr. Singleton tapped a letter he held up. "In this one, I've written what your uncle did to me. Give it to Grandoken, telling him I said to let it remain sealed unless Jordan Morse claims you. If you reach eighteen safely, burn the letter."

He paused and took out a pocketbook.

"Money is scarce these days, but take this and it'll get you to Grandoken's. It's all I have, anyway. Now go along to bed."

He handed the envelopes to her, and his hand came in contact with hers. The very touch of it, the warmth and life surging through her, gave a keener edge to his misery.