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 power to disbar me from the practice of law. If that order stands, I'm a pauper. I already owe your mother for two months' board."

"We don't want the money," eagerly broke in the girl.

"Two months' board," he went on, ignoring her interruption, "for my dear old crazy Dad, helpless as a babe with his faithful servant Alfred who must wait on him—two months' board for my bouncing brother Billy, an eighteen-year-old cub who never missed a meal—two months' board for my war-tried appetite that was never known to fail. No, Miss Susie, we can't impose on the good nature of the widow Wilson and her beautiful daughter who does the work of a slave without wages and without a murmur."

Susie's eyes suddenly fell.

"No, I've given Alfred orders to pack. We must move to-morrow."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," cried the girl. "You can pay us when you are able. Your father saved us from want during the war. We owe him a debt that can't be paid. He is no trouble, and Alfred works the garden. Mother loves Billy as if he were my brother. And we are honoured in having you in our home."

The tender gray eyes were lowered again.