Raising her hands wearily, she rested her chin upon them, and answered slowly: 

“Many things, I fear.”

“Valuable articles?  Faded flowers, perfumed with choice Oriental reminiscences?”

“Yes, sir, I lost my purse, and my Agra violets.”

“What reward will you offer for the recovery of such precious relics of fraternal affection?  A promise of implicit obedience to your guardian?  Certainly, they are worth that trifle?”

“They are very precious indeed.  Where did you find my purse?”

“On the desk at my office.”

He held up the ivory toy, then laid it on the table.

“Thank you, sir.  Mr. Palma, will you grant me a great favour?”

“As I never forfeit my word, I avoid entangling myself rashly in the meshes of promise.  Just now I am in no mood to grant your unreasonable petitions; still, I will be glad to hear what my ward desires of her guardian.”

Her lip quivered, and his heart smote him as he observed her wounded expression.  She was silent, still resting her drooped head on her folded hands.

“Regina, I am waiting to hear you.”

“It is useless.  You would refuse me.”

“Probably I should; yet I prefer that you should express your wishes, and afford me an opportunity of judging of their propriety.”

She sighed and shook her head.

“I shall not permit such childish trifling.  Tell me at once what you wish me to do.”

“Will you be so kind as to lend me twenty-five dollars, until I receive my remittance?”

His eyes fell beneath her timidly pleading gaze, and a deep flush of embarrassment passed over his face.

“That depends upon the use you intend to make of it.  If you desire to run away from me, I am afraid you must borrow of some one else.  Do you wish to pay your passage to Europe?”

“Oh no!  I wish that I could.  You allow me no such comforting hope.”

“What do you want with it?”

“I cannot tell you.”

“Because you know that your object is improper?”

“No, sir; but you would not understand my motives.”

“Try me.”

“I will not I hoped you would have sufficient confidence in me to grant my request without demanding my reasons.”

“I have confidence in the purity of your motives.  I do not question the goodness of your heart, or the propriety of your intentions; but I gravely doubt the correctness of your youthful judgment.  Do not force me to refuse you such a trivial thing.  Tell me your purpose.”

“No, sir.”

A proud grieved look crossed her delicate features.

He walked away, reached the door, then came back for one of his gloves which had fallen on the rug.

“Mr. Palma.”

“Well, Miss Orme.”

“Trust me.”

He looked down into her beautiful sad eyes, and his heart began to throb fiercely.