“Mr. Benson, senior or junior?”
“Oh, senior. He is my father. I must see him to-day.”
The man did not ask her to come in, but shut the door in her face. He went hastily back to the library, and then seeing but an old grey-haired man sitting there he softly closed the door and ran upstairs.
“What do you want?” came the voice from the inside in answer to the slight knock.
“The person is at the door you told me never to allow in,” said the butler.
It took but a moment for George Benson to get down stairs.
“Why, Annie,” said the soft voice, “I am very sorry to see you in this condition, and you shall have money, but do not come in. Your father is so incensed against you that I would not answer for the consequences if you should.”
“Oh, I want to see him, George, so much. Do not turn me away. My child and I are starving.”
“Oh, well, as far as money is concerned, I will give you some, but I am sure your father will refuse you admittance.”
“Ask him, any way, George,” pleaded she.