The senator took the letter, and as he read his face grew ashen and his hand trembled violently.  At one blow all his ambitious projects for his daughter had been swept away.  The inconsiderate act of a silly, thoughtless girl had spoiled the carefully laid plans of a lifetime.  The only consolation which remained was that the calamity might have been still more serious.  This timely warning had saved his family from perhaps an even greater scandal.  He passed the letter in silence to Ryder, Sr.

The financier was a man of few words when the situation called for prompt action.  After he had read the letter through, there was an ominous silence.  Then he rang a bell.  The butler appeared.

“Tell Mr. Bagley I want him.”

The man bowed and disappeared.

“Who the devil is this Bagley?” demanded the senater.

“English—­blue blood—­no money,” was Ryder’s laconic answer.

“That’s the only kind we seem to get over here,” growled the senator.  “We furnish the money—­they furnish the blood—­damn his blue blood!  I don’t want any in mine.”  Turning to Jefferson, he said:  “Jefferson, whatever the motives that actuated you, I can only thank you for this warning.  I think it would have broken my heart if my girl had gone away with that scoundrel.  Of course, under the circumstances, I must abandon all idea of your becoming my son-in-law.  I release you from all obligations you may have felt yourself bound by.”

Jefferson bowed and remained silent.

Ryder, Sr. eyed his son closely, an amused expression hovering on his face.  After all, it was not so much he who had desired this match as Roberts, and as long as the senator was willing to withdraw, he could make no objection.  He wondered what part, if any, his son had played in bringing about this sensational denouement to a match which had been so distasteful to him, and it gratified his paternal vanity to think that Jefferson after all might be smarter than he had given him credit for.

At this juncture Mr. Bagley entered the room.  He was a little taken aback on seeing the senator, but like most men of his class, his self-conceit made him confident of his ability to handle any emergency which might arise, and he had no reason to suspect that this hasty summons to the library had anything to do with his matrimonial plans.

“Did you ask for me, sir? he demanded, addressing his employer.

“Yes, Mr. Bagley,” replied Ryder, fixing the secretary with a look that filled the latter with misgivings.  “What steamers leave to-morrow for England?”

“To-morrow?” echoed Mr. Bagley.

“I said to-morrow,” repeated Ryder, slightly raising his voice.

“Let me see,” stammered the secretary, “there is the White Star, the North German Lloyd, the Atlantic Transport—­” “Have you any preference?” inquired the financier.

“No, sir, none at all.”

“Then you’ll go on board one of the ships to-night,” said Ryder.  “Your things will be packed and sent to you before the steamer sails to-morrow.”