always been such dear friends since that time of
the great sorrow, and it is not about the boys, I know. Oh, Zay, what is
the matter? You look ill--you must have a fever, your eyes show it."

"The doctor called it a feverish cold. He is coming again this
afternoon." She was half listening to the tumult in the library, and she
shook as if in an ague.

"Oh, there they go again. Why--they are going out," and she went to the
hall to call to her husband but the door was flung to as if in a
passion. Then someone entered and ran lightly upstairs.

"Mother, Zay, what is the row about? Father looks as if he--but he never
_does_ drink and they are going to Mrs. Barrington's."

Zay buried her face in her hands and began to sob.

"Oh, mother, what is it? Has Vin met with some accident? And we were so
happy yesterday! Do you remember the old story of the gods being jealous
of the happiness of mortals? There was nothing to wish for."

"I do not know what it is, but it has excited your father desperately
and I am afraid Zay is going to be ill."

"My dear Zay--I should not have kept you out so late last night. We
called at the Norton's and had a little dance. Don't you need the
doctor--"

"He was in. He is coming this afternoon. Oh, my head aches--"

"And you look fit to drop, mother. Let me call the nurse."

Freida gently impelled Mrs. Crawford to her own room and laid her on the
lounge, making passes over her brow and chafing her cold hands.

"Now, lie still and get tranquil, and I will see to the young lady."

"I would like to put you in a hot bath with plenty of salt, and then
give you a good rub. Why, you have gone all to pieces, as you Americans
say."

Zaidee made no demur. Willard went and read aloud to his mother. The
girl was bathed and rubbed and rolled in a blanket. She felt real
drowsy, but the thought haunted her--what if Louie Howe had been taken
ill with scarlet fever and they had sent word to Mrs. Barrington? Then
Louie must have confessed and the three would be implicated. No wonder
her father was angry!

She tossed around for awhile but, in spite, of her mental excitement she
fell asleep. The luncheon hour passed; no one wanted to eat. Then Major
Crawford let himself in with his latchkey. He was very pale now.

"Oh, is there bad news?" asked Willard.

"It depends on--how your mother takes it. Such a strange story--I can
hardly credit it myself. Do not let us be interrupted unless I have to
summon s