or a moment. Then she said:

"Who is it?"

"A Mrs. Chesney--a very unusual woman. She wrote a remarkable book once
under her maiden name, Sophy Taliaferro."

Belinda sprung to her feet.

"Why, I've read some poems by a Sophy Taliaferro," she exclaimed.
"Red-hot stuff they were, too!"

"Linda! I forbid you to speak in that way," said her mother.

"All right, Mater--but they _were_ red-h--.... All right, I won't then.
But, Aunt Grace, it couldn't be _that_ Sophy Taliaferro--she must be a
hundred!"

"No--only thirty," said Mrs. Loring, smiling again.

"My _Gawd_!" cried Belinda, pronouncing the sacred name grotesquely so
as to take off the edge of her irreverence. She dropped back upon the
steps, and sat staring open-mouthed at her aunt. "He's gone nutty!" she
added, closing her lips with a snap. Then she sprang up again and
stamped her foot.

"You've got to save him!" she cried, tears of rage in her eyes. "It
isn't fair!-- She's roped him in!-- Morry is just at the age to do such
rotten foolishness!-- Thank God, this is a Land of Divorce!----"

"Belinda!"

"Yes--thank God for it!-- And I wish trial marriage was here, too!"

"Belinda!"

"Oh, stuff, Mater! Haven't you read Ellen Key--she'd make you sit up!"

Mrs. Horton got up, went to the girl, and grasped her firmly by the
shoulder. She was a determined little woman when roused and Belinda
recognised the expression in her eyes. She looked up at her, sulky but
silent for the moment.

"Listen to me," said her step-mother. "I will not have you talking in
this manner. How dare you read Ellen Key, and--and poems that I've never
given you?"

Belinda's radiant grin shone out again in spite of her.

"Oh, cut it out, Mater," she said amiably. "I hooked Roderick Random and
Boccaccio when I was twelve--but you needn't worry. They made me
sick--what I could understand of them. Yes, Mater--I've naturally got
what they call a 'clean mind'--nastiness never would attract me. But
this is a new age beginning, and a new sort of girl is beginning, too,
and she wants to know what's what about everything, and-- I'm _her_!"
she wound up defiantly.

Mrs. Loring had put up her _face-a-main_, and earnestly regarded the
girl's face during this speech. She had again that sensation of watching
an interesting tempest from safe decks.

"I shall send you to school in France this winter," said Mrs. Horton
grimly. "If you're so bent on acquiring knowledge it shall be given to
you