It was now December and the Senate had been in session for over a week.
Jefferson had not forgotten his promise, and one day, about two weeks
after Mr. Bagley's spectacular dismissal from the Ryder residence, he
had brought Shirley the two letters. She did not ask him how he got
them, if he forced the drawer or procured the key. It sufficed for her
that the precious letters--the absolute proof of her father's
innocence--were at last in her possession. She at once sent them off by
registered mail to Stott, who immediately acknowledged receipt and at
the same time announced his departure for Washington that night. He
promised to keep her constantly informed of what he was doing and how
her father's case was going. It could, he thought, be only a matter of
a few days now before the result of the proceedings would be known.
The approach of the crisis made Shirley exceedingly nervous, and it was
only by the exercise of the greatest self-control that she did not
betray the terrible anxiety she felt. The Ryder biography was nearly
finished and her stay in Seventy-fourth Street would soon come to an
end. She had a serious talk with Jefferson, who contrived to see a good
deal of her, entirely unsuspected by his parents, for Mr. and Mrs.
Ryder, had no reason to believe that their son had any more than a mere
bowing acquaintance with the clever young authoress. Now that Mr.
Bagley was no longer there to spy upon their actions these clandestine
interviews had been comparatively easy. Shirley brought to bear all the
arguments she could think of to convince Jefferson of the hopelessness
of their engagement. She insisted that she could never be his wife;
circumstances over which they had no control made that dream
impossible. It were better, she said, to part now rather than incur the
risk of being unhappy later. But Jefferson refused to be convinced. He
argued and pleaded and he even swore--strange, desperate words that
Shirley had never heard before and which alarmed her not a little--and
the discussion ended usually by a kiss which put Shirley completely
hors de combat.
Meantime, John Ryder had not ceased worrying about his son. The removal
of Kate Roberts as a factor in his future had not eliminated the danger
of Jefferson taking the bit between his teeth one day and contracting a
secret marriage with the daughter of his enemy, and when he thought of
the mere possibility of such a thing happening he stormed and raved
until his wife, accustomed as she was to his choleric outbursts, was
thoroughly frightened. For some time after Bagley's departure, father
and son got along together fairly amicably, but Ryder, Sr. was quick to
see that Jefferson had something on his mind which was worrying him,
and he rightly attributed it to his infatuation for Miss Rossmore. He
was convinced that his son knew where the judge's daughter was,
although his own efforts to discover her whereabouts had been
unsuccessful. Sergeant Ellison had confessed absolute failure; Miss
Rossmore, he reported, had disappeared as completely as if the earth
had swallowed her, and further search was futile. Knowing well his
son's impulsive, headstrong disposition, Ryder, Sr. believed him quite
capable of marrying the girl secretly any time. The only thing that
John Ryder did not know was that Shirley Rossmore was not the kind of a
girl to allow any man to inveigle her into a secret marriage. The
Colossus, who judged the world's morals by his own, was not of course
aware of this, and he worried night and day thinking what he could do
to prevent his son from marrying the daughter of the man he had wronged.
The more he pondered over it, the more he regretted that there was not
some other girl with whom Jefferson could fall in love and marry. He
need not seek a rich girl--there was certainly enough money in the
Ryder family to provide for both. He wished they knew a girl, for
example, as attractive and clever as Miss Green. Ah! he thought, there
was a girl who would make a man of Jefferson--brainy, ambitious,
active! And the more he thought of it the more the idea grew on him
that Miss Green would be an ideal daughter-in-law, and at the same time
snatch his son from the clutches of the Rossmore woman.
Jefferson, during all these weeks, was growing more and more impatient.
He knew that any day now Shirley might take her departure from their
house and return to Massapequa. If the impeachment proceedings went
against her father it was more than likely that he would lose her
forever, and if, on the contrary, the judge were acquitted, Shirley
never would be willing to marry him without his father's consent; and
this, he felt, he would never obtain. He resolved, therefore, to have a
final interview with his father and declare boldly his intention of
making Miss Rossmore his wife, regardless of the consequences.
The opportunity came one evening after dinner. Ryder, Sr. was sitting
alone in the library, reading, Mrs. Ryder had gone to the theatre with
a friend, Shirley as usual was writing in her room, giving the final
touches to her now completed "History of the Empire Trading Company."
Jefferson took the bull by the horns and boldly accosted his
redoubtable parent.
"May I have a few minutes of your time, father?"
Ryder, Sr. laid aside the paper he was reading and looked up. It was
unusual for his son to come to him on any errand, and he liked to
encourage it.
"Certainly, Jefferson. What is it?"
"I want to appeal to you, sir. I want you to use your influence, before
it is too late, to save Judge Rossmore. A word from you at this time
would do wonders in Washington."
The financier swung half-round in his chair, the smile of greeting
faded out of his face, and his voice was hard as he replied coldly:
"Again? I thought we had agreed not to discuss Judge Rossmore any
further?"
"I can't help it, sir," rejoined Jefferson undeterred by his sire's
hostile attitude, "that poor old man is practically on trial for his
life. He is as innocent of wrongdoing as a child unborn, and you know
it. You could save him if you would."
"Jefferson," answered Ryder, Sr., biting his lip to restrain his
impatience, "I told you before that I could not interfere even if I
would; and I won't, because that man is my enemy. Important business
interests, which you cannot possibly know anything about, demand his
dismissal from the bench."
"Surely your business interests don't demand the sacrifice of a man's
life!" retorted Jefferson. "I know modern business methods are none too
squeamish, but I should think you'd draw the line at deliberate murder!"
Ryder sprang to his feet and for a moment stood glaring at the young
man. His lips moved, but no sound came from them. Suppressed wrath
rendered him speechless. What was the world coming to when a son could
talk to his father in this manner?
"How dare you presume to judge my actions or to criticise my methods?"
he burst out, finally.
"You force me to do so," answered Jefferson hotly. "I want to tell you
that I am heartily ashamed of this whole affair and your connection
with it, and since you refuse to make reparation in the only way
possible for the wrong you and your associates have done Judge
Rosmore--that is by saving him in the Senate--I think it only fair to
warn you that I take back my word in regard to not marrying without
your consent. I want you to know that I intend to marry Miss Rossmore
as soon as she will consent to become my wife, that is," he added with
bitterness, "if I can succeed in overcoming her prejudices against my
family--"
Ryder, Sr. laughed contemptuously.
"Prejudices against a thousand million dollars?" he exclaimed
sceptically.
"Yes," replied Jefferson decisively, "prejudices against our family,
against you and your business practices. Money is not everything. One
day you will find that out. I tell you definitely that I intend to make
Miss Rossmore my wife."
Ryder, Sr. made no reply, and as Jefferson had expected an explosion,
this unnatural calm rather startled him. He was sorry he had spoken so
harshly. It was his father, after all.
"You've forced me to defy you, father," he added. "I'm sorry---"
Ryder, Sr. shrugged his shoulders and resumed his seat. He lit another
cigar, and with affected carelessness he said:
"All right, Jeff, my boy, we'll let it go at that. You're sorry--so am
I. You've shown me your cards--I'll show you mine."
His composed unruffled manner vanished. He suddenly threw off the mask
and revealed the tempest that was raging within. He leaned across the
desk, his face convulsed with uncontrollable passion, a terrifying
picture of human wrath. Shaking his fist at his son he shouted:
"When I get through with Judge Rossmore at Washington, I'll start after
his daughter. This time to-morrow he'll be a disgraced man. A week
later she will be a notorious woman. Then we'll see if you'll be so
eager to marry her!"
"Father!" cried Jefferson.
"There is sure to be something in her life that won't bear inspection,"
sneered Ryder. "There is in everybody's life. I'll find out what it is.
Where is she to-day? She can't be found. No one knows where she is--not
even her own mother. Something is wrong--the girl's no good!"
Jefferson started forward as if to resent these insults to the woman he
loved, but, realizing that it was his own father, he stopped short and
his hands fell powerless at his side.
"Well, is that all?" inquired Ryder, Sr. with a sneer.
"That's all," replied Jefferson, "I'm going. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," answered his father indifferently; "leave your address with
your mother."
Jefferson left the room, and Ryder, Sr., as if exhausted by the
violence of his own outburst, sank back limp in his chair. The crisis
he dreaded had come at last. His son had openly defied his authority
and was going to marry the daughter of his enemy. He must do something
to prevent it; the marriage must not take place, but what could he do?
The boy was of age and legally his own master. He could do nothing to
restrain his actions unless they put him in an insane asylum. He would
rather see his son there, he mused, than married to the Rossmore woman.
Presently there was a timid knock at the library door. Ryder rose from
his seat and went to see who was there. To his surprise it was Miss
Green.
"May I come in?" asked Shirley.
"Certainly, by all means. Sit down."
He drew up a chair for her, and his manner was so cordial that it was
easy to see she was a welcome visitor.
"Mr. Ryder," she began in a low, tremulous voice, "I have come to see
you on a very important matter. I've been waiting to see you all
evening--and as I shall be here only a short time longer I--want to ask
yon a great favour--perhaps the greatest you were ever asked--I want to
ask you for mercy--for mercy to--"
She stopped and glanced nervously at him, but she saw he was paying no
attention to what she was saying. He was puffing heavily at his cigar,
entirely preoccupied with his own thoughts. Her sudden silence aroused
him. He apologized:
"Oh, excuse me--I didn't quite catch what you were saying."
She said nothing, wondering what had happened to render him so
absent-minded. He read the question in her face, for, turning towards
her, he exclaimed:
"For the first time in my life I am face to face with defeat--defeat of
the most ignominious kind--incapacity--inability to regulate my own
internal affairs. I can rule a government, but I can't manage my own
family--my own son. I'm a failure. Tell me," he added, appealing to
her, "why can't I rule my own household, why can't I govern my own
child?"
"Why can't you govern yourself?" said Shirley quietly.
Ryder looked keenly at her for a moment without answering her question;
then, as if prompted by a sudden inspiration, he said:
"You can help me, but not by preaching at me. This is the first time in
my life I ever called on a living soul for help. I'm only accustomed to
deal with men. This time there's a woman in the case--and I need your
woman's wit--"
"How can I help you?" asked Shirley.
"I don't know," he answered with suppressed excitement. "As I told you,
I am up against a blank wall. I can't see my way." He gave a nervous
little laugh and went on: "God! I'm ashamed of myself--ashamed! Did you
ever read the fable of the Lion and the Mouse? Well, I want you to gnaw
with your sharp woman's teeth at the cords which bind the son of John
Burkett Ryder to this Rossmore woman. I want you to be the mouse--to
set me free of this disgraceful entanglement."
"How? asked Shirley calmly.
"Ah, that's just it--how?" he replied. "Can't you think--you're a
woman--you have youth, beauty--brains." He stopped and eyed her closely
until she reddened from the embarrassing scrutiny. Then he blurted out:
"By George! marry him yourself--force him to let go of this other
woman! Why not? Come, what do you say?"
This unexpected suggestion came upon Shirley with all the force of a
violent shock. She immediately saw the falseness of her position. This
man was asking for her hand for his son under the impression that she
was another woman. It would be dishonorable of her to keep up the
deception any longer. She passed her hand over her face to conceal her
confusion.
"You--you must give me time to think," she stammered. "Suppose I don't
love your son--I should want something--something to compensate."
"Something to compensate?" echoed Ryder surprised and a little
disconcerted. "Why, the boy will inherit millions--I don't know how
many."
"No--no, not money," rejoined Shirley; "money only compensates those
who love money. It's something else--a man's honour--a man's life! It
means nothing to you."
He gazed at her, not understanding. Full of his own project, he had
mind for nothing else. Ignoring therefore the question of compensation,
whatever she might mean by that, he continued:
"You can win him if you make up your mind to. A woman with your
resources can blind him to any other woman."
"But if--he loves Judge Rossmore's daughter?" objected Shirley.
"It's for you to make him forget her--and you can," replied the
financier confidently. "My desire is to separate him from this Rossmore
woman at any cost. You must help me." His sternness relaxed somewhat
and his eyes rested on her kindly. "Do you know, I should be glad to
think you won't have to leave us. Mrs. Ryder has taken a fancy to you,
and I myself shall miss you when you go."
"You ask me to be your son's wife and you know nothing of my family,"
said Shirley.
"I know you--that is sufficient," he replied.
"No--no you don't," returned Shirley, "nor do you know your son. He has
more constancy--more strength of character than you think--and far more
principle than you have."
"So much the greater the victory for you," he answered good humouredly.
"Ah," she said reproachfully, "you do not love your son."
"I do love him," replied Ryder warmly. "It's because I love him that
I'm such a fool in this matter. Don't you see that if he marries this
girl it would separate us, and I should lose him. I don't want to lose
him. If I welcomed her to my house it would make me the laughing-stock
of all my friends and business associates. Come, will you join forces
with me?"
Shirley shook her head and was about to reply when the telephone bell
rang. Ryder took up the receiver and spoke to the butler downstairs:
"Who's that? Judge Stott? Tell him I'm too busy to see anyone. What's
that? A man's life at stake? What's that to do with me? Tell him--"
On hearing Stott's name, Shirley nearly betrayed herself. She turned
pale and half-started up from her chair. Something serious must have
happened to bring her father's legal adviser to the Ryder residence at
such an hour! She thought he was in Washington. Could it be that the
proceedings in the Senate were ended and the result known? She could
hardly conceal her anxiety, and instinctively she placed her hand on
Ryder's arm.
"No, Mr. Ryder, do see Judge Stott! You must see him. I know who he is.
Your son has told me. Judge Stott is one of Judge Rossmore's advisers.
See him. You may find out something about the girl. You may find out
where she is. If Jefferson finds out you have refused to see her
father's friend at such a critical time it will only make him
sympathize more deeply with the Rossmores, and you know sympathy is
akin to love. That's what you want to avoid, isn't it?"
Ryder still held the telephone, hesitating what to do. What she said
sounded like good sense.
"Upon my word--" he said. "You may be right and yet--"
"Am I to help you or not?" demanded Shirley. "You said you wanted a
woman's wit."
"Yes," said Ryder, "but still--"
"Then you had better see him," she said emphatically.
Ryder turned to the telephone.
"Hello, Jorkins, are you there? Show Judge Stott up here." He laid the
receiver down and turned again to Shirley. "That's one thing I don't
like about you," he said. "I allow you to decide against me and then I
agree with you." She said nothing and he went on looking at her
admiringly. "I predict that you'll bring that boy to your feet within a
month. I don't know why, but I seem to feel that he is attracted to you
already. Thank Heaven! you haven't a lot of troublesome relations. I
think you said you were almost alone in the world. Don't look so
serious," he added laughing. "Jeff is a fine fellow, and believe me an
excellent catch as the world goes."
Shirley raised her hand as if entreating him to desist.
"Oh, don't--don't--please! My position is so false! You don't know how
false it is!" she cried.
At that instant the library door was thrown open and the butler
appeared, ushering in Stott. The lawyer looked anxious, and his
dishevelled appearance indicated that he had come direct from the
train. Shirley scanned his face narrowly in the hope that she might
read there what had happened. He walked right past her, giving no sign
of recognition, and advanced direct towards Ryder, who had risen and
remained standing at his desk.
"Perhaps I had better go?" ventured Shirley, although tortured by
anxiety to hear the news from Washington.
"No," said Ryder quickly, "Judge Stott will detain me but a very few
moments."
Having delivered himself of this delicate hint, he looked towards his
visitor as if inviting him to come to the point as rapidly as possible.
"I must apologize for intruding at this unseemly hour, sir," said
Stott, "but time is precious. The Senate meets to-morrow to vote. If
anything is to be done for Judge Rossmore it must be done to-night."
"I fail to see why you address yourself to me in this matter, sir,"
replied Ryder with asperity.
"As Judge Rossmore's friend and counsel," answered Stott, "I am
impelled to ask your help at this critical moment."
"The matter is in the hands of the United States Senate, sir," replied
Ryder coldly.
"They are against him!" cried Stott; "not one senator I've spoken to
holds out any hope for him. If he is convicted it will mean his death.
Inch by inch his life is leaving him. The only thing that can save him
is the good news of the Senate's refusal to find him guilty."
Stott was talking so excitedly and loudly that neither he nor Ryder
heard the low moan that came from the corner of the room where Shirley
was standing listening.
"I can do nothing," repeated Ryder coldly, and he turned his back and
began to examine some papers lying on his desk as if to notify the
caller that the interview was ended. But Stott was not so easily
discouraged. He went on:
"As I understand it, they will vote on strictly party lines, and the
party in power is against him. He's a marked man. You have the power to
help him." Heedless of Ryder's gesture of impatience he continued:
"When I left his bedside to-night, sir, I promised to return to him
with good news; I have told him that the Senate ridicules the charges
against him. I must return to him with good news. He is very ill
to-night, sir." He halted for a moment and glanced in Shirley's
direction, and slightly raising his voice so she might hear, he added:
"If he gets worse we shall send for his daughter."
"Where is his daughter?" demanded Ryder, suddenly interested.
"She is working in her father's interests," replied Stott, and, he
added significantly, "I believe with some hope of success."
He gave Shirley a quick, questioning look. She nodded affirmatively.
Ryder, who had seen nothing of this by-play, said with a sneer:
"Surely you didn't come here to-night to tell me this?"
"No, sir, I did not." He took from his pocket two letters--the two
which Shirley had sent him--and held them out for Ryder's inspection.
"These letters from Judge Rossmore to you," he said, "show you to be
acquainted with the fact that he bought those shares as an
investment--and did not receive them as a bribe."
When he caught sight of the letters and he realized what they were,
Ryder changed colour. Instinctively his eyes sought the drawer on the
left-hand side of his desk. In a voice that was unnaturally calm, he
asked:
"Why don't you produce them before the Senate?"
"It was too late," explained Stott, handing them to the financier. "I
received them only two days ago. But if you come forward and declare--"
Ryder made an effort to control himself.
"I'll do nothing of the kind. I refuse to move in the matter. That is
final. And now, sir," he added, raising his voice and pointing to the
letters, "I wish to know how comes it that you had in your possession
private correspondence addressed to me?"
"That I cannot answer," replied Stott promptly.
"From whom did you receive these letters?" demanded Ryder.
Stott was dumb, while Shirley clutched at her chair as if she would
fall. The financier repeated the question.
"I must decline to answer," replied Stott finally.
Shirley left her place and came slowly forward. Addressing Ryder, she
said:
"I wish to make a statement."
The financier gazed at her in astonishment. What could she know about
it, he wondered, and he waited with curiosity to hear what she was
going to say. But Stott instantly realized that she was about to take
the blame upon herself, regardless of the consequences to the success
of their cause. This must be prevented at all hazards, even if another
must be sacrificed, so interrupting her he said hastily to Ryder:
"Judge Rossmore's life and honour are at stake and no false sense of
delicacy must cause the failure of my object to save him. These letters
were sent to me by--your son."
"From my son'" exclaimed Ryder, starting. For a moment he staggered as
if he had received a blow; he was too much overcome to speak or act.
Then recovering himself, he rang a bell, and turned to Stott with
renewed fury:
"So," he cried, "this man, this judge whose honour is at stake and his
daughter, who most likely has no honour at stake, between them have
made a thief and a liar of my son! false to his father, false to his
party; and you, sir, have the presumption to come here and ask me to
intercede for him!" To the butler, who entered, he said: "See if Mr.
Jefferson is still in the house. If he is, tell him I would like to see
him here at once."
The man disappeared, and Ryder strode angrily up and down the room with
the letters in his hand. Then, turning abruptly on Stott, he said:
"And now, sir, I think nothing more remains to be said. I shall keep
these letters, as they are my property."
"As you please. Good night, sir."
"Good night," replied Ryder, not looking up.
With a significant glance at Shirley, who motioned to him that she
might yet succeed where he had failed, Stott left the room. Ryder
turned to Shirley. His fierceness of manner softened down as he
addressed the girl:
"You see what they have done to my son--"
"Yes," replied Shirley, "it's the girl's fault. If Jefferson hadn't
loved her you would have helped the judge. Ah, why did they ever meet!
She has worked on his sympathy and he--he took these letters for her
sake, not to injure you. Oh, you must make some allowance for him!
One's sympathy gets aroused in spite of oneself; even I feel sorry
for--these people."
"Don't," replied Ryder grimly, "sympathy is often weakness. Ah, there
you are!" turning to Jefferson, who entered the room at that moment.
"You sent for me, father?"
"Yes," said Ryder, Sr., holding up the letters. "Have you ever seen
these letters before?"
Jefferson took the letters and examined them, then he passed them back
to his father and said frankly:
"Yes, I took them out of your desk and sent them to Mr. Stott in the
hope they would help Judge Rossmore's case."
Ryder restrained himself from proceeding to actual violence only with
the greatest difficulty. His face grew white as death, his lips were
compressed, his hands twitched convulsively, his eyes flashed
dangerously. He took another cigar to give the impression that he had
himself well under control, but the violent trembling of his hands as
he lit it betrayed the terrific strain he was under.
"So!" he said, "you deliberately sacrificed my interests to save this
woman's father--you hear him, Miss Green? Jefferson, my boy, I think
it's time you and I had a final accounting."
Shirley made a motion as if about to withdraw. He stopped her with a
gesture.
"Please don't go, Miss Green. As the writer of my biography you are
sufficiently well acquainted with my family affairs to warrant your
being present at the epilogue. Besides, I want an excuse for keeping my
temper. Sit down, Miss Green."
Turning to Jefferson, he went on:
"For your mother's sake, my boy, I have overlooked your little
eccentricities of character. But now we have arrived at the parting of
the ways--you have gone too far. The one aspect of this business I
cannot overlook is your willingness to sell your own father for the
sake of a woman."
"My own father," interrupted Jefferson bitterly, "would not hesitate to
sell me if his business and political interests warranted the
sacrifice!"
Shirley attempted the role of peacemaker. Appealing to the younger man,
she said:
"Please don't talk like that, Mr. Jefferson." Then she turned to Ryder,
Sr.: "I don't think your son quite understands you, Mr. Ryder, and, if
you will pardon me, I don't think you quite understand him. Do you
realize that there is a man's life at stake--that Judge Rossmore is
almost at the point of death and that favourable news from the Senate
to-morrow is perhaps the only thing that can save him?"
"Ah, I see," sneered Ryder, Sr. "Judge Stott's story has aroused your
sympathy."
"Yes, I--I confess my sympathy is aroused. I do feel for this father
whose life is slowly ebbing away--whose strength is being sapped hourly
by the thought of the disgrace--the injustice that is being done him! I
do feel for the wife of this suffering man!"
"Ah, its a complete picture!" cried Ryder mockingly. "The dying father,
the sorrowing mother--and the daughter, what is she supposed to be
doing?"
"She is fighting for her father's life," cried Shirley, "and you, Mr.
Jefferson, should have pleaded--pleaded--not demanded. It's no use
trying to combat your father's will."
"She is quite right, father I should have implored you. I do so now. I
ask you for God's sake to help us!"
Ryder was grim and silent. He rose from his seat and paced the room,
puffing savagely at his cigar. Then he turned and said:
"His removal is a political necessity. If he goes back on the bench
every paltry justice of the peace, every petty official will think he
has a special mission to tear down the structure that hard work and
capital have erected. No, this man has been especially conspicuous in
his efforts to block the progress of amalgamated interests."
"And so he must be sacrificed?" cried Shirley indignantly.
"He is a meddlesome man," insisted Ryder "and--"
"He is innocent of the charges brought against him," urged Jefferson.
"Mr. Ryder is not considering that point," said Shirley bitterly. "All
he can see is that it is necessary to put this poor old man in the
public pillory, to set him up as a warning to others of his class not
to act in accordance with the principles of Truth and Justice--not to
dare to obstruct the car of Juggernaut set in motion by the money gods
of the country!"
"It's the survival of the fittest, my dear," said Ryder coldly.
"Oh!" cried Shirley, making a last appeal to the financier's heart of
stone, "use your great influence with this governing body for good, not
evil! Urge them to vote not in accordance with party policy and
personal interest, but in accordance with their consciences--in
accordance with Truth and Justice! Ah, for God's sake, Mr. Ryder! don't
permit this foul injustice to blot the name of the highest tribunal in
the Western world!"
Ryder laughed cynically.
"By Jove! Jefferson, I give you credit for having secured an eloquent
advocate!"
"Suppose," went on Shirley, ignoring his taunting comments, "suppose
this daughter promises that she will never--never see your son
again--that she will go away to some foreign country!"
"No!" burst in Jefferson, "why should she? If my father is not man
enough to do a simple act of justice without bartering a woman's
happiness and his son's happiness, let him find comfort in his
self-justification!"
Shirley, completely unnerved, made a move towards the door, unable
longer to bear the strain she was under. She tottered as though she
would fall. Ryder made a quick movement towards his son and took him by
the arm. Pointing to Shirley he said in a low tone:
"You see how that girl pleads your cause for you! She loves you, my
boy!" Jefferson started. "Yes, she does," pursued Ryder, Sr. "She's
worth a thousand of the Rossmore woman. Make her your wife and I'll--"
"Make her my wife!" cried Jefferson joyously. He stared at his parent
as if he thought he had suddenly been bereft of his senses.
"Make her my wife?" he repeated incredulously.
"Well, what do you say?" demanded Ryder, Sr.
The young man advanced towards Shirley, hands outstretched.
"Yes, yes, Shir--Miss Green, will you?" Seeing that Shirley made no
sign, he said: "Not now, father; I will speak to her later."
"No, no, to-night, at once!" insisted Ryder. Addressing Shirley, he
went on: "Miss Green, my son is much affected by your disinterested
appeal in his behalf. He--he--you can save him from himself--my son
wishes you--he asks you to become his wife! Is it not so, Jefferson?"
"Yes, yes, my wife!" advancing again towards Shirley.
The girl shrank back in alarm.
"No, no, no, Mr. Ryder, I cannot, I cannot!" she cried.
"Why not?" demanded Ryder, Sr. appealingly. "Ah, don't--don't decide
hastily--"
Shirley, her face set and drawn and keen mental distress showing in
every line of it, faced the two men, pale and determined. The time had
come to reveal the truth. This masquerade could go on no longer. It was
not honourable either to her father or to herself. Her self-respect
demanded that she inform the financier of her true identity.
"I cannot marry your son with these lies upon my lips!" she cried. "I
cannot go on with this deception. I told you you did not know who I
was, who my people were. My story about them, my name, everything about
me is false, every word I have uttered is a lie, a fraud, a cheat! I
would not tell you now, but you trusted me and are willing to entrust
your son's future, your family honour in my keeping, and I can't keep
back the truth from you. Mr. Ryder, I am the daughter of the man you
hate. I am the woman your son loves. I am Shirley Rossmore!"
Ryder took his cigar from his lips and rose slowly to his feet.
"You? You?" he stammered.
"Yes--yes, I am the Rossmore woman! Listen, Mr. Ryder. Don't turn away
from me. Go to Washington on behalf of my father, and I promise you I
will never see your son again--never, never!"
"Ah, Shirley!" cried Jefferson, "you don't love me!"
"Yes, Jeff, I do; God knows I do! But if I must break my own heart to
save my father I will do it."
"Would you sacrifice my happiness and your own?"
"No happiness can be built on lies, Jeff. We must build on truth or our
whole house will crumble and fall. We have deceived your father, but he
will forgive that, won't you?" she said, appealing to Ryder, "and you
will go to Washington, you will save my father's honour, his life, you
will--?"
They stood face to face--this slim, delicate girl battling for her
father's life, arrayed against a cold-blooded, heartless, unscrupulous
man, deaf to every impulse of human sympathy or pity. Since this woman
had deceived him, fooled him, he would deal with her as with everyone
else who crossed his will. She laid her hand on his arm, pleading with
him. Brutally, savagely, he thrust her aside.
"No, no, I will not!" he thundered. "You have wormed yourself into my
confidence by means of lies and deceit. You have tricked me, fooled me
to the very limit! Oh, it is easy to see how you have beguiled my son
into the folly of loving you! And you--you have the brazen effrontery
to ask me to plead for your father? No! No! No! Let the law take its
course, and now Miss Rossmore--you will please leave my house to-morrow
morning!"
Shirley stood listening to what he had to say, her face white, her
mouth quivering. At last the crisis had come. It was a fight to the
finish between this man, the incarnation of corporate greed and
herself, representing the fundamental principles of right and justice.
She turned on him in a fury:
"Yes, I will leave your house to-night! Do you think I would remain
another hour beneath the roof of a man who is as blind to justice, as
deaf to mercy, as incapable of human sympathy as you are!"
She raised her voice; and as she stood there denouncing the man of
money, her eyes flashing and her head thrown back, she looked like some
avenging angel defying one of the powers of Evil.
"Leave the room!" shouted Ryder, beside himself, and pointing to the
door.
"Father!" cried Jefferson, starting forward to protect the girl he
loved.
"You have tricked him as you have me!" thundered Ryder.
"It is your own vanity that has tricked you!" cried Shirley
contemptuously. "You lay traps for yourself and walk into them. You
compel everyone around you to lie to you, to cajole you, to praise you,
to deceive you! At least, you cannot accuse me of flattering you. I
have never fawned upon you as you compel your family and your friends
and your dependents to do. I have always appealed to your better nature
by telling you the truth, and in your heart you know that I am speaking
the truth now."
"Go!" he commanded.
"Yes, let us go, Shirley!" said Jefferson.
"No, Jeff, I came here alone and I'm going alone!"
"You are not. I shall go with you. I intend to make you my wife!"
Ryder laughed scornfully.
"No," cried Shirley. "Do you think I'd marry a man whose father is as
deep a discredit to the human race as your father is? No, I wouldn't
marry the son of such a merciless tyrant! He refuses to lift his voice
to save my father. I refuse to marry his son!"
She turned on Ryder with all the fury of a tiger:
"You think if you lived in the olden days you'd be a Caesar or an
Alexander. But you wouldn't! You'd be a Nero--a Nero! Sink my
self-respect to the extent of marrying into your family!" she exclaimed
contemptuously. "Never! I am going to Washington without your aid. I am
going to save my father if I have to go on my knees to every United
States Senator. I'll go to the White House; I'll tell the President
what you are! Marry your son--no, thank you! No, thank you!"
Exhausted by the vehemence of her passionate outburst, Shirley hurried
from the room, leaving Ryder speechless, staring at his son.