CHAPTER IV

"PITILESS WAVES"


A deeper shadow than that of the night fell upon Mildred Jocelyn's
home after the return of her father. Feeling that there should be
no more blind drifting toward he knew not what, he had employed
all the means within his power to inform himself of the firm's
prospects, and learned that there was almost a certainty of speedy
failure. He was so depressed and gloomy when he sat down to dinner
that his wife had not the heart to tell him of her schemes to secure
his daughter's happiness, or of the gossamer-like fabrics she had
bought, out of which she hoped to construct a web that would more
surely entangle Mr. Arnold. Even her sanguine spirit was chilled
and filled with misgivings by her husband's manner. Mildred, too,
was speedily made to feel that only a very serious cause could
banish her father's wonted good-humor and render him so silent.
Belle and the little ones maintained the light talk which usually
enlivened the meal, but a sad constraint rested on the others. At
last Mr. Jocelyn said, abruptly, "Fanny, I wish to see you alone,"
and she followed him to their room with a face that grew pale with
a vague dread. What could have happened?

"Fanny," he said sadly, "our firm is in trouble. I have hoped and
have tried to believe that we should pull through, but now that
I have looked at the matter squarely I see no chance for us, and