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Oh, that prayer! If Harold could have heard it, how angry he would have been to think that anyone supposed that he needed praying for. But even if Daryl had been more in love than she ever had thought she was, she could not have found fault with the tenderness of that prayer.

And when she went to her bed that night Daryl rested her heart down hard on the everlasting God, and went straight to sleep. There were going to be no regrets in her heart when she let Harold and his ring go away just after a late breakfast the next morning, as he did. She had laid all her burden and perplexity in the hands of the Lord to do with her as He saw fit.

D
emeter Cass did not come to Alan Monteith’s office the first thing when she got home from the Wyndringham house party. She decided that she could do more with him if she could bring him to be a little anxious about it himself, and make him do the calling up. Perhaps it would come to him that he hadn’t been exactly kind to her, and if he should be repentant of course she would have a great part of her battle won. It wasn’t thinkable that that little country girl with the big angel-eyes had been able to make him forget her. She had her siren ways and knew she could depend upon them. Besides she had great stakes to win, and must go cautiously.

So she let three days go by without a sign from herself, and yet no ring or call, nor even a letter of apology came from the young lawyer, who had been so busy since his return that he had scarcely thought of her.

Then one morning when he came to the office he found a note summoning him to her house at eleven o’clock to stay to lunch.

He had to go over to the courthouse almost immediately, so he instructed his secretary to call her and tell her that it would be impossible for him to come as he had to be in court until four o’clock, but if she could be at the office then, or early the next morning, he would give her a half hour.

Demeter had told the secretary she would come that afternoon. But when Alan got back, tired and hungry for he had been too busy to stop for lunch, she was not there. He waited ten minutes and then there came a ring, and a sorrowful voice spoke.

“Alan, I’m sorry, but it’s quite impossible for me to come out this afternoon. The doctor has just been here and says it would be suicidal for me to go out in the cold with this condition of my lungs. It’s a bad cold on my chest, you know, and I’ve been threatened with pneumonia. Now, I’m sorry to ask it, but won’t you come over and have a cup of tea with me? It is imperative that I see you this afternoon. I cannot wait any longer!”

With an annoyed look at his watch and a hopeless thought of the papers he had to go through that night before court tomorrow, he reluctantly said, “All right, I’ll come, but I can’t stay more than a half hour, Demeter. I’m rushed to death just now.”

“Thank you, Alan!” she said drearily and hung up. So Alan jumped into his car and went.

He was vexed with himself for going. He felt somehow that to go to her apartment was poor. He had a lot to do and it would be hard to get away. Besides, business transacted in a house was not nearly so satisfactory as in an office where things were formal. A girl like Demeter could use the sentimental appeal to better advantage outside an office than in. But what else could he do but go? He couldn’t be brutal and refuse. And she seemed to think it was so important. Well, he would get away as soon as he could. What on earth could it be that was so important, anyway?

He passed a tired hand over a weary brow and sighed. And then he remembered.

Ever since he had left the farm, ever since that quiet moment when he had knelt with Lance by the fire and surrendered himself to the Lord he had had that sense of a Presence with him. It had wakened with him in the morning and been nearby in the offing all day when he was hard at work. Today, even in the busy courtroom where he had had to be alert every moment, he had still felt that there was Someone to whom he might turn in perplexity. Someone who was wiser than any judge or lawyer anywhere, and who could guide him unerringly. He put up a quick petition. “Oh Lord, you know about this. Show me what to do, solve any perplexity. Don’t let me do the wrong thing in any way.”

Demeter had set her stage well.

The room was spacious and luxurious, done in black and silver, a combination that well set off its owner with her gold hair and strange green eyes—eyes that could melt tenderly into almost blue at times and then into stormy gray!

There was a fire burning at one side of the wide room and the curtains were drawn, reflecting silvery lights from their folds. There was a large black velvet couch with many pillows of black inviting to comfort. It was drawn across the front of the fire, a low tea table at one end. An immense white bear skin sprawled across the floor in front like a gigantic protector, its glassy eyes regarding Alan, its great pink jaws menacingly wide open. A lavish wealth of roses, pale shell-pink, shed exquisite perfume through the air. Off through a wide doorway the outline of a grand piano gave pleasant vista.

Demeter entered the room a moment later, just giving him time to take in the beauty of the setting, and her entrance was like the rising of a curtain in a play.

She was attired in a lovely dressing gown of clinging white transparent velvet with glimpses of pastel chiffon that matched the roses and looked like a delicate cloud at sunset. It gave her a frail, almost unearthly beauty, with her gold hair and strange eyes. A single jewel sparkled on her white neck from a threadlike chain, and her stockingless feet were shod in silver sandals through which peeped shamelessly her little pink toes with their polished nails stained to match her fingertips. These details did not enter Alan’s consciousness at once, but the effect was of an exceedingly intimate outfit, and he was startled at the picture she had made of herself. Something suddenly steeled and warned him in his heart. Was this then what God had to protect him against? Or was he mistaken?
Could
anything as lovely as this not have a soul as beautiful?

She drifted in almost wearily like an invalid and dropped upon the velvet couch, its depth of black bringing out still more startlingly her exquisite little self. She had certainly gone to a great deal of trouble to charm him, but of course Alan didn’t realize that. It only seemed that he was being let into her inner circle, the intimacy of a more-than-friend, and he wasn’t quite sure that he wanted to be there. In fact, he was pretty certain that he did not. But whether he wanted to or not, he was there, and must get through with it as best he could.

God! Are you there?

He greeted her gravely but did not take the seat beside her on the couch that she indicated.

“I’ll just sit here where I can see you,” he said easily, dropping into a big armchair across the hearth from the couch.

She did not urge him, but he saw that she did not like it that he had refused.

“So sorry I had to demand your presence,” she said coolly, “but my doctor positively refused to let me go out, and my affairs could not wait another day!” There was the tiniest bit of reproach in the words.

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve been ill,” he said, and thought as he looked at her that in spite of her subdued manner she did not look sick at all. “I’m sorry, too, that I must hurry. But this was the only way I could have come. I shall have to work nearly all night tonight to be ready for court tomorrow morning. I’m sure you understand.”

“No, I wouldn’t understand,” said Demeter a little haughtily, “but it doesn’t matter. You are here, and I’ll do my best to tell you the business in the time you give me.” She sighed gently as if she had been treated inconsiderately but was willing to forgive.

“We’ll just have our tea while we talk,” she said.

She touched a bell and a servant appeared with a tray of good things. Alan was grateful for the food, and it was of course delectable. When he was served and the servant had departed he said pleasantly, “Now, what is it?”

“Well, Alan,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes, holding his gaze in spite of his desire to get away from that disturbing glance, “I need a great deal of money at once, and I want you to get it for me! That’s the story.”

And then she watched him. He looked at her blankly.

“Money?” he said in dismay. “You surely know I have no money, at least so little that it would scarcely count with you as any.”

“Yes, but you have the means of procuring it,” said the girl, still pinning him with her glance and watching his reaction to her words.

“The means?” he repeated blankly. “I don’t understand you. I have no means of procuring money!”

“Think!” said Demeter. “Haven’t you trust funds in your charge?”

Alan laughed.

“Yes, but they are
trust
funds, and I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in the penitentiary for embezzling them!” He tried to speak jocosely, but she did not smile.

“Don’t be childish!” she said impatiently. “I’m in earnest.”

He watched her, wondering just where this strange conversation was going to lead. Then he answered gravely.

“Suppose you explain. I’m sure you are not so ignorant of business matters as to think that I could hand over trust funds to you because you happen to want some money.”

“No, but you have to invest them, don’t you?”

“Yes, certainly, but how would that help you?”

“Couldn’t I borrow them?”

“You! Borrow
them!” He looked at her with undisguised amusement. “Just how would you go about doing that? Have you collateral for large sums of money?”

“Certainly!” she said, and her eyes were glittering now, and strangely they reminded him of a serpent’s eyes just before it was about to strike its victim.

“Well, that’s extraordinary! Are you going to explain?”

“Yes, presently, when I’ve told you the rest.”

“Oh, there is more?”

“Of course,” she said, annoyed. “I have worked this thing out very carefully. You have a trust fund in the name of Bronson MacMartin, I believe, haven’t you?”

He gave her a startled look.

“I believe we have, but how should you know?”

“He happens to be my uncle, and a part of that fortune, perhaps the whole of it, will be mine someday. Do you wonder now that I should know about it? And are you surprised that I should have thought of it now in my need, since it is practically mine now?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, Uncle Bronson will never come out of the sanitarium. As far as his money is concerned he is practically dead now. And the only other heir is a distant cousin who has not been heard of for years. He went off to the Orient to live years ago, and no one knows what has become of him. So I’m practically talking about my own money, you see.”

“Demeter, what in the world are you driving at, and where could I possibly come into the affair?”

Demeter suddenly melted into smiles and looked wistfully at him.

“Alan, I want that money, and where you come in, darling, is to get it for me. I want you to release it for me, now, within a few days. I know you can do it if you will, and I’ll see that you are not the loser thereby.”

He gave her a quick troubled look.

“You are talking nonsense, Demeter! The Bronson MacMartin funds are well invested and cannot be touched!”

“Not if you can get a better investment? One that pays a high rate of interest?”

“That wouldn’t be possible, not in these times, not
safe
investments. The place where it is now is as safe as the Rock of Gibraltar, and the terms of the arrangement are very definite. Even if I thought it wise I would be powerless to change it.”

Demeter narrowed her eyes.

“I think you can change it!” she said confidently. “I am sure you will do so when you hear everything.”

“There is more?” he asked cautiously, giving a furtive glance at his watch. This was going to be more complicated than he had feared, and the time was going fast. He had already been here three-quarters of an hour.
Oh God! Are you near?

“Yes, there is more, and that’s where the count comes in.”

“The count?” Alan looked around sharply. Was there a count to be reckoned with yet tonight?

“Oh, he isn’t here yet, my dear,” said Demeter coolly. “I told him I’d keep you till seven o’clock. He couldn’t get here any sooner. But you’ll stay! After I’ve told you the rest, you’ll stay to hear what he as to say.”

Alan’s face settled into grim lines of sternness.

“Demeter, look here! If you have more to tell, tell it quickly. I’ll give you five minutes, and then I’m going. I’m late already for what I have to do.”

Demeter smiled serenely.

“Well, listen then, but I’m sure you’ll stay after you have heard me. I have come on a marvelous fortune, if I can only get funds to develop it at once, before someone else snaps it up.”

She watched her victim, but his face was a mask now and told her nothing. His unbelieving eyes watched her narrowly.

“It is simply marvelous!” she went on. “It is in oil and silver, both. And I have bought several large areas of land containing these oil wells and silver mines!”