sunbursts an' solitaires--don't seem to harmonize with your
father's desire to borrow money. Pardon me, but I can't make 'em
look honest. They are not paid for--or if they are they are paid
for with other men's money. They seem to accuse you. They'd
accuse me if I didn't speak out plain to ye.'

"All of a sudden Lizzie dropped into a chair an' began to cry. She
had lit safely on the ground.

[Illustration: Lizzie dropped into a chair an' began to cry.]

"It made me feel like a murderer, but it had to be. Poor girl! I
wanted to pick her up like a baby an' kiss her. It wasn't that I
loved Lizzie less but Rome more. She wasn't to blame. Every
spoilt woman stands for a fool-man. Most o' them need--not a
master--but a frank counsellor. I locked the door. She grew calm
an' leaned on my table, her face covered with her hands. My clock
shouted the seconds in the silence. Not a word was said for two or
three minutes.

"'I have been brutal,' I says, by-an'-by. 'Forgive me.'

"'Mr. Potter,' she says, 'you've done me a great kindness. I'll
never forget it. What shall I do?'

"'Well, for one thing,' says I, 'go back to your old simplicity an'
live within your means.'

"'I'll do it,' she says; 'but--I--I supposed my father was rich.
Oh, I wish we could have had this talk before!'