Meantime Orissa was having a hard time at the office endeavoring to avoid a personal conversation with Mr. Burthon. When he came in at nine o’clock he smiled upon her and asked:

“Anything to tell me, Miss Kane?”

She shook her head, flushing a little, and he went to his desk without another word. He seemed abstracted and moody¹ during the forenoon—a return of his old puzzling manner—and Orissa regretted she had not been brave enough to tell him of their decision to reject his offer when he gave her the opportunity.

Nothing more passed between them until after luncheon², but when she reëntered the office Mr. Burthon, who had not gone out, suddenly roused himself and said:

“Come here, please, Miss Kane.”

She obeyed, meekly⁴ seating herself in the chair beside his desk.

The man looked at her a long time; not impudently⁵, with direct gaze, but rather speculatively⁶ 90and with an expression that seemed to penetrate⁷ far beyond her and to consider many things beside her fair face. Finally he asked:

“What conclusion have you reached in regard to your financial matters, of which we spoke⁸ Saturday?”

“I’ve talked with my brother, sir, and he dislikes to give up a half interest in his invention.”

“Did you tell him I would furnish all the money that might be required?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And he refused?”

“This aëroplane is very dear to my brother, Mr. Burthon. He cannot bear to transfer a part ownership to another, who would have the right to dictate⁹ its future.”

“Pshaw!” exclaimed the

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