“They say that after Miss Gordon requested Mr. Romaine, that for a while he scrupulously abstained from taking even a glass of wine.  At several entertainments, he adhered to this purpose but on the evening of Mrs. Roland’s silver wedding Jeanette succeeded in persuading him to take a glass, in honor of the occasion.  I watched Belle’s face and it was a perfect study, every nerve seemed quivering with intense anxiety.  Once I think she reached out her hand unconsciously as if to snatch away the glass, and when at last he yielded I saw the light fade from her eyes, a deadly pallor overspread her cheek, and I thought at one time she was about to faint, but she did not, and only laid her head upon her side as if to allay a sudden spasm of agony.”

Chapter VIII

Paul Clifford sat at his ledger with a perplexed and anxious look.  It was near two o’clock and his note was in bank.  If he could not raise five hundred dollars by three o’clock, that note would be protested.  Money was exceedingly hard to raise, and he was about despairing.  Once he thought of applying to John Anderson, but he said to himself, “No, I will not touch his money, for it is the price of blood,” for he did not wish to owe gratitude where he did not feel respect.  It was now five minutes past two o’clock and in less than an hour his note would be protested unless relief came from some unexpected quarter.

“Is Mr. Clifford in?” said a full manly voice.  Paul, suddenly roused from his painful reflections, answered, “Yes, come in.  Good morning sir, what can I do for you this morning?”

“I have come to see you on business.”

“I am at your service,” said Paul.

“Do you remember,” said the young man, “of having aided an unfortunate friend more than a dozen years since by lending him five hundred dollars?”

“Yes, I remember he was an old friend of mine, a school-mate of my father’s, Charles Smith.”

“Well I am his son, and I have come to liquidate my father’s debt.  Here is the money with interest for twelve years.”

Paul’s heart gave a sudden bound of joy.  Strong man as he was a mist gathered in his eyes as he reached out his hand to receive the thrice welcome sum.  He looked at the clock, it was just fifteen minutes to three.

“Will you walk with me to the bank or wait till I return?”

“I will wait,” said James Smith, taking up the morning paper.

* * * * *

“You are just in time, Mr. Clifford,” said the banker smiling and bowing as Paul entered, “I was afraid your note would be protested; but it is all right.”

“Yes,” said Paul, “the money market is very tight, but I think I shall weather the storm.”

“I hope so, you may have to struggle hard for awhile to keep your head above the water; but you must take it for your motto that there is no such word as ‘fail.’”