ind
than what you said. Would you mind telling me?"

Dorothy looked steadily but not offensively at her.

"Oh, it's nothing, Miss Rexhill. I was only thinking that he has gone
rather far: been very zealous in your father's interests. Probably...."

"Why, Dorothy--!" her mother interposed, in a shocked tone.

"Miss Rexhill asked me, mother, and you know that I always speak
frankly."

"Yes, do go on," Helen urged, with even an added touch of sweetness in
her manner. "I really want to know. I am so out of touch with things
here, so ill informed."

"Well, you can sit here at the windows and learn all you wish to know.
There isn't a man in this town that would see Gordon arrested and not
fight to free him. Feeling is running high here now. You know, it's
something like a violin string. You can stretch it just so far and then
it snaps. That's all."

"Dorothy, I'm really mortified that you...."

"Oh, you've no occasion to be, Mrs. Purnell," Helen interrupted,
smiling. "I asked for the plain truth, you know."

Mrs. Purnell laughed feebly.

"Dorothy has known Mr. Wade so long and we both like him so well that
she can't bear to hear a word against him," she explained. Her sense of
_lese majeste_ was running away with her judgment, and Dorothy shot an
irritated glance at her. "Not that I think he did it at all, you
understand; but...."

"Oh, perfectly," declared Helen, with rising color and an equal feeling
of annoyance. "Oh, dear me, do look at my poor letters!"

A gust of wind, stronger than any that had come before, had swept the
weight to the floor and scattered letter paper, envelopes, and blotter
about the room. Helen was just able to catch the writing-pad as it slid
to the floor, while Dorothy and her mother laughingly salvaged the
rest. The incident happily relieved the awkward drift of their
conversation, and they all felt relieved.

"Well, now, did you ever?" Mrs. Purnell ejaculated, looking at the
lithographed blotter, which she held in her hand. "I declare this
picture of a little girl reminds me of Dorothy when she was that age."

"Oh, mother!"

"Really?" Helen broke in. "How interesting. I hadn't noticed the
picture. Do let me see."

To be courteous, she agreed with Mrs. Purnell that there was a strong
likeness, which Dorothy laughingly denied.

"I guess I know what you looked like when you were five better than you
do," Mrs. Purnell declared. "It's the image of you as you were then, and
as Mis