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106
Friday, the Thirteenth
him," she was whispering to herself. ''I can do what I like with him."
The elder Brownley wrote, and smiled as he wrote ; then he gave the paper to the girl, and, ignorant of, or careless of, his son's presence, he patted her hand and crossed the room to the hatrack.
Beulah would have left the room, but Bob caught her wrist in a fierce grip. The elder man was apparently too much absorbed with his pleasant thoughts to notice the byplay, and, adjusting his silk hat to a rakish angle, he stalked off, humming a popular air.
The girl was puzzled and a little frightened. Under her long lashes she glanced up at the younger Brownley, who was eying her with a thundercloud on his brow "When you get tired holding my wrist " she suggested.
"I want to see what my father gave you !" He released her, and, looking still more puzzled, the girl held out to him a check.
"It's my first month's salary," she
told him. "Have you any objections — or do you think I'm too expensive a secretary? You have reason, for your father has expressed himself as so well satisfied that he has made out the check for double the amount he offered me. I am sorry you don't like me. Mr. Brownley."
"Like you! My God!" Bob's fingers bit into his palms in the stress of the fight he had to keep back the passionate words that trembled on his lips. A moment he stood at the window, looking down into the street. "Forgive me, Miss Lee," he said, turning. "I am unstrung, nervous. The stock fever during business hours and the never-ending quarrel at home between my father and his second wife — they have made me unable to think clearly. Do believe me. I have only your best interests at heart. This is a strange household you find yourself in, and I want no taint of the poison to touch your own soul. That's how much I think of you. Forgive me." He went
'I want to see what my father gave you.