cotton hat."

Von Taer had no answer to this criticism. Perhaps he scarcely heard it,
for he appeared lost in a brown study. Finally he said: "Will you
permit my daughter to call upon your nieces, Mr. Merrick?"

"Of course, sir."

"Then kindly give me their addresses."

Uncle John wrote them on a slip of paper.

"You may now dismiss the subject from your mind, sir, as you lately
advised me to do. Whatever may be accomplished in the direction you have
suggested I will gladly undertake. If I succeed it will be exceedingly
gratifying to us all, I am sure."

Mr. Merrick left the office in a rather humbled and testy mood. He
disliked to ask favors at any time and now felt that he had confided
himself to the mercy of this callous aristocrat and met with a distinct
rebuff.

But he had done it for the sake of his beloved nieces--and they would
never know what humiliation this unsatisfactory interview had cost him.




CHAPTER III