“How could you? how could you?” she burst forth angrily; “it was an outrage, for there isn’t a more honest fellow living than Gerald Winchester, and papa——”
“Softly, Allison, softly!” her companion interrupted, a cruel spark leaping into his eyes. “Don’t allow your personal regard for the young man to run away with your judgment. My fidelity to my employer’s interests demands that if I find a burglar in the act of robbing his bank I must guard them to the extent of the law, even though its clutch falls upon a confidential clerk.”
“But you might have given Gerald the benefit of the doubt, when he had the keys—when you knew he had never been guilty of a mean or dishonorable act since he came into papa’s employ,” the fair girl persisted, adding tremulously. “Oh, it would have been too dreadful if I had not found out about it!”
“Yes, doubtless Winchester would have had a three years’ sentence to serve,” John Hubbard returned, indifferently. “But,” he added, assuming a blandness he was far from feeling, “I will not keep you here discussing the matter further, even though I should be glad to convince you of my fidelity to your father, and to assure you that I shall continue to labor as faithfully for your interests.”
Allison gave a little shrug of impatience at this latter remark, thus plainly indicating that it would have pleased her better if she could have had some one more congenial to guard her interests.
The lawyer’s white teeth gleamed at her for an instant from beneath his mustache; then he remarked, in a matter-of-fact tone:
“By the way, you said you had some errands to attend to. Have you plenty of money for your purpose?”
“I have my check-book, thank you, and do not need any money,” Allison coldly returned, drawing her coat more closely about her as a hint that she did not care to be detained longer.
The man looked a trifle surprised at her reply.