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The girl drew herself up and quickly interrupted him.

"Mr. Ilingsworth, I must remind you that you are speaking of my father."

There was no mistaking her anger. Her eyes blazed, and it seemed to rouse the tiger in him.

"Yes, I'm speaking of your father!" he cried. "And if you've never heard the truth before, you will hear it now. Moreover, if I am any judge of human nature, you'll know whether I am stating facts or otherwise. Thirteen months ago Peter V. Wilkinson sought me out. I thought I was seeking him,"—he laughed bitterly,—"but I was wrong. He sought me out and placed me high up in his companies. I was successful—which meant that he had succeeded in his scheme. I did not see it then; but now I know that the man who is willing to stoop low enough to rope in the pennies of the Bridgets, the Michaels, the Lenas, and the Gustaves, of this world, is a man who would spend his time and money to get my quarter of a million—mine and Elinor's—in his grasp. But then I was flattered. It meant big salary and big dividends for me, at least, so I was assured."