"Oh, will you?" and the woman looked her relief.
"Indeed I will, providing you make it worth while. I am always open for business."
The woman looked keenly at the man.
"Do I understand that you want to be paid for keeping silent?" she at length found voice to ask.
"Certainly. That's what I'm here for. Business is business, remember, and if I cannot make a living at my regular profession, I must turn to the next best thing that offers."
"But this is a hold-up. Are you not afraid to do such a thing?"
"Afraid! Of what?"
The sudden flush that mantled the woman's face plainly showed that she understood. The man noted it, and smiled.
"You realise the situation, madame, I see. That is very fortunate. I have nothing to fear, as you would do almost anything rather than let your secret be known."
"But suppose I do not accede to your demand, what then?"
"That would remain for you to find out, madame. Are you willing to run the risk?"
"Heavens, no! It must not be. What is your price? Tell me quick, and let us get through with this painful interview."
"Willingly, madame. I am as anxious to get through as you are. My price is very moderate, considering the favor I am bestowing upon you. I want five hundred dollars."
"Five hundred dollars!" The woman gasped as she stared at her visitor.
"Why, you are a scoundrel, and nothing less."
Grimsby smiled, and rubbed his hands. He felt sure of his quarry, and it mattered little to him what he was called. It was all in the way of business, so he told himself. Then he picked up his hat from the floor where he had deposited it, and made as though he was about to leave.
"Very well, then," he casually remarked. "If you think it is too much I am sorry. Next week, perhaps, you will consider it very cheap, and would be willing to give far more. But it may be too late then. However, if you are unwilling to meet my moderate demand, it is no use for me to remain longer."
He started to leave the fire-place, but the woman detained him.
"Don't go just yet," she ordered. "I realise that I must give you something. But isn't your price exorbitant?"
"It might be for some, but not for you, Mrs. Randall. I understand that you are one of the largest tax-payers in this city, and in your own name at that. Why, I am astonished at myself for my moderation in asking for so little from such a rich woman. I might have made it a thousand at least."
For a few minutes the woman remained in deep thought. Grimsby never took his eyes from her face. He was quite elated with himself, for he felt sure of success.
At length the woman gave a weary sigh, rose slowly from her chair, and crossing the room, sat down before a handsome writing-table. When she at last came back to the fire-place she was holding a cheque in her hand. Eagerly the man reached out to receive it. But the woman waved him back.
"Just a minute," she told him. "Before I give you this I want you to promise upon your word of honour that you will never ask me for any more money."
"I promise, madame," Grimsby replied, bowing, and placing his right hand upon his heart in a dramatic manner. "I shall make myself as scarce as I always do when my creditors are after me. What more can I say?"
"And you will never breathe a word of this to anyone?"
"Trust me to keep the secret, madame, I shall not even tell my wife."
The woman was about to say something more, but a startled look came into her eyes, as she turned apprehensively toward the door. Nervously she thrust the cheque into the man's hand.
"Here, take this," she ordered, "and leave the house at once. Somebody is coming."
Without a word Grimsby seized his hat, sped across the room, opened the door and disappeared. Trembling violently, the woman sank down in the chair and buried her face in her hands, a veritable picture of abject misery and despair.
CHAPTER II
REBELLION
The man had been gone but a few minutes when the door was again opened and a girl entered. She was a vision fair to behold as she paused for an instant while her eyes rested upon the woman crouched before the fire. She evidently had just come in out of the night, for she wore her out-of-door cloak, and her hair was somewhat tossed by the violence of the wind. The rich colour of her cheeks betokened the healthy exercise of one who had walked some distance. An expression of anxiety came into her dark-brown eyes as she crossed the room, and bent over the woman in the chair.
"Mother, mother, what is the matter?" she demanded. "Are you ill?"
"Oh, it's you, Jess, is it?" the woman languidly asked as she lifted her head. "I thought it was Maggie. I was not expecting you so soon. What brought you home so early?"
"It must have been my guiding angel," the girl smilingly replied. "So you were lonely without me? Was that the trouble?"
"Yes, I suppose that had something to do with it. But I am not feeling well to-night. This room seems very oppressive."
"You are too warm," and the girl glanced down at the fire. Her eyes at once rested upon the stub of the cigarette lying upon the grate where Grimsby had thrown it. She also smelled the smoke of tobacco and instantly surmised that something out of the ordinary had happened to agitate her usually self-possessed mother.
"Somebody has been here annoying you," she cried, turning impulsively to the woman. "Was it Tom asking for more money?"
Again the woman bowed her head, and made no immediate answer. Her thoughts were active, and she was glad of any excuse.
"How did you know he was here?" she at length asked, without looking up.
"I met a man hurrying from the door as I came in. It was too dark to see who he was, and he did not seem to notice me at all. Tom knows my opinion of him, and so he is not anxious to meet me. I did not think of Tom, though, until I found you so upset. And he was smoking too, for there is the stub of his cigarette. Why can't he leave you alone?"
"He never will, Jess. He is just like Will and Dick. They are always bothering me about money, as if I haven't been giving to them for years. They are just like helpless children."
"Worse, mother. They are three useless men. It is well that I am a girl, for I might be tempted to follow their miserable example. Are you not glad that you have only three sons instead of four?"
Receiving no reply, the girl took off her hat, laid aside her wraps, and rang for the maid. Then she drew up a chair and sat down by her mother's side.
"My, this fire is pleasant," she remarked, as she leaned back and gazed into the glowing coals. "I am glad after all that I came home."
"Why didn't Mr. Donaster come in, Jess? I have not seen him for some time."
"Neither have I, mother." The girl's face flushed, and there was a challenge in her voice.
"You haven't! Why, I thought you were with him to-night."
"Indeed I was not. You know as well as I do that I wish to have nothing to do with that man. I have told you so over and over again."
This sudden outburst aroused the woman from her crouching position. She sat upright, and the expression in her eyes told