elief brought some comfort to
the girl. But she asked, "Why are there red spots on her cheeks, then?"

"Paint," he answered.

"No," cried Grizel, rocking her arms, "it is not paint now. I thought it
might be and I tried to rub it off while she was sleeping, but it will
not come off. And when she coughs there is blood on her handkerchief."

He looked alarmed now, and Grizel's fears came back. "If mamma dies,"
she said determinedly, "she must be buried in the cemetery."

"She is not dying, I tell you."

"And you must come to the funeral."

"Are you gyte?"

"With crape on your hat."

His mouth formed an emphatic "No."

"You must," said Grizel, firmly, "you shall! If you don't--" She pointed
to the parlor-door.

Her remaining two visits were to a similar effect, and one of the
gentlemen came out of the ordeal somewhat less shamefully than the
first, the other worse, for he blubbered and wanted to kiss her. It is
questionable whether many young ladies have made such a profound
impression in a series of morning calls.

The names of these gentlemen are not known, but you shall be told
presently where they may be found. Every person in Thrums used to know
the place, and many itched to get at the names, but as yet no one has
had the nerve to look for them.

Not at this time did Grizel say a word of these interviews to her
friends, though Tommy had to be told of them later, and she never again
referred to her mother at the Saturday evenings in the Den. But the
others began to know a queer thing, nothing less than this, that in
their absence the lair was sometimes visited by a person or persons
unknown, who made use of their stock of firewood. It was a startling
discovery, but when they discussed it in council, Grizel never
contributed a word. The affair remained a mystery until one Saturday
evening, when Tommy and Elspeth, reaching the lair first, found in it a
delicate white shawl. They both recognized in it the pretty thing the
Painted Lady had pinned across her shoulders on the night they saw her
steal out of Double Dykes, to meet the man of long ago.

Even while their eyes were saying this, Grizel climbed in without giving
the password, and they knew from her quick glance around that she had
come for the shawl. She snatched it out of Tommy's hand with a look
that prohibited questions.

"It's the pair o' them," Tommy said to Elspeth at the first opportunity,
"that sometimes comes here at nights and kindles th