“Miss Murchison, if there are brains enough in C——, this dastardly outrage shall be probed to the bottom. It is enough to make a man’s blood boil to think of the injuries inflicted on suffering women and children by such overpowering greed. But,” he added, glancing at his watch, “it is five o’clock and already past office hours. Nothing can be done until to-morrow. If you will trust me with these papers, I will make an early effort to-morrow to regain the furniture. In the mean time, allow me to supply a bed and immediate necessaries for the sufferers.”
“That will not be needed,” interposed Margaret. “I have a bed of Gilbert’s which I can loan them——”
“And turn the poor fellow onto the floor!” interrupted Herbert. “That is philanthropy gone mad, Miss Murchison. I shall insist upon supplying the bed.”
“I am perfectly sane, Mr. Lynn,” laughed Margaret, “and contemplate nothing worse than asking Gilbert to occupy a lounge.”
“We’ll forestall that by the purchase of a bed. Now that you’ve taken me into partnership, you must not deny me my rights.”
“Not if you look upon it in that light,” said Margaret seriously. “Still I should regret it, if it seemed a charity that was forced upon you.”
“You would rather inconvenience yourself than ask a favor of one whom you knew to be perfectly able to grant it?”
“I should, if I thought the favor would be bestowed as a mere matter of form, without the promptings of a generous spirit.”
“‘The gift without the giver is vain,’” quoted Herbert musingly. “You can trust the spirit this time, Miss Murchison,” he added, with a half smile. “It has lighted its torch at your altar.”
“Thank you,” replied Margaret gratefully, “but only for the time being, I am sure. The embers are glowing on the home shrine.”