Old Droom puffed vigorously at his. pipe, his eyes shifting and
uncomfortable. Twice he attempted to speak, and could not. In both
instances he arose and poked the fire. At last the young man's
choking sobs grew less violent. Droom cleared his throat with raucous
emphasis, took his snaky gaze from a print on the wall representing
"Dawn," and spoke:

"You wouldn't think it to look at me now--or any other time, for
that matter--but I loved a woman once. A long time ago. She never
knew it. I didn't expect her to love me. How could I? Don't cry,
Graydon. You're not like I was. The girl you love loves you. Cheer
up. If I were you I'd go ahead and make her my wife. She's good
enough, I'll swear."

"She says she can't marry me. Good Heaven, Elias. you don't know what
a blow it was to her. It almost killed her. And my own father--oh,
it was terrible!"

Elias Droom did not tell him--nor had he ever told anyone but
himself--that the woman he loved was the boy's mother. He loved her
before and after she married James Bansemer. He never had faltered
in his love and reverence for her.

Graydon waited in his rooms until the old man returned with the
morning papers. As Droom placed them on the table beside him, he
grinned cheerfully.

"Big headlines, eh? But these are not a circumstance to what they
will be. These articles deal only with the great mystery concerning
the birth of one of the 'most beautiful and popular young women in