When Mr. Stafford left the solicitor's office he did not go directly home. His mind was too disturbed—he despaired of being able to raise immediately the money to pay even the interest, for his rents would not be due for some time, and then other interest would be due. He had one or two friends in the city, and with the hope of obtaining some relief through them, he spent the afternoon in trying to find them, and finally left London only a short time after Hall.

Mr. Stafford was thankful that neither of the members of his family met him on his return, and being informed that Hall was in the library, he sought distraction from his thoughts there. His own desperate circumstances caused Mr. Stafford to remember their conversation of that morning, and after a few minutes he asked what had been the result of Hall's interview with Kate.

"Very unsatisfactory. Your daughter appears to have taken a sudden dislike to me. I had reason, as I believed, to think I had found favor in her eyes, but it appears I was mistaken. I am sorry for it, both on my own account and yours!"

"Sorry for it on my account?"

"Yes, Mr. Stafford, on your account, because I've just learned from my attorney, Mr. Jones, that a mortgage which I have instructed him to convert into cash as soon as it becomes due, is on your property. Indeed, I should not be surprised to learn that I hold other mortgages on this property."

"What! You hold the mortgages on this property!" exclaimed Mr. Stafford. "And did you not know this until to-day?"

"No—I assure you I did not. You see, although an American, I was educated here, and returned again after my father's estate was settled on my coming of age. As I was traveling more or less all the time, I gave Mr. Jones a power of attorney and he invested my money as he thought best. Of course, if I were your son-in-law, the mortgage could stand as long as you wished—forever for that matter, and that too, without interest."

"And Kate refused you?" asked Mr. Stafford.

He was looking thoughtfully into the grate fire. What a difference that answer made to all of them?

Hall was watching him sharply, and appeared to be studying his reply before saying:

"Yes—but I think her decision could be reversed if you would use your influence—and it would be decidedly to your advantage to do so."

The menace contained in the last words was quite plain to Mr. Stafford.

"I shall certainly advise Kate to accept your offer; but that is as far I shall go—she must do as she pleases."

"Very well," said Hall rising, "I will make another effort and trust to your influence for success." This last with a significant look as he left the room.

When he was alone Mr. Stafford began to pace the floor, talking to himself.

"Poor Kate! She little knows what her refusal means. It is plain enough, that if it is 'no' to-morrow from her, it will be beggary the next day for us. Beggary! Beggary! The place will not bring a penny more than the mortgages—and what can I do! An old man like myself can get no employment, and I have not fifty—no, not twenty pounds in my possession! My God! What shall I do? I can't ask the poor girl to marry the man—to sell herself, if she dislikes him."

Hall returned to the library just then, and after taking a book from the case, said:

"Suppose you come up to my room, Mr. Stafford? I have some fine old port I should like you to try, and as the ladies are out you might as well spend an hour with me as not."

Mr. Stafford did not care particularly where he went or what he did that night, and went up-stairs with Hall.

The latter was mistaken in saying the ladies were out. Scarcely had they left the room when Kate, looking very pale and troubled, but also very determined, made her appearance between the curtains of the large bay-window, where she usually spent her afternoons reading. It was her favorite spot, and fitted up specially for her use.

"Poor papa!" she murmured, "you need not worry if my consent to marry Mr. Hall will save you."