pport. Not much. Where is it, Joe? Didn't
you hear what I asked?"

"Yes, ma'am," acknowledged Joe, blankly.

"You can't be mean enough--I should say you don't mean to tell her we
won't take Phoebe?" gasped Harvey, blinking rapidly. "Surely you can't
be so hard-hearted as all----"

"That will do, Harvey," said she, sternly. "Don't let me hear another
word out of you. The idea! Just as soon as she thinks you're safely
married to some one who can give that child a home she up and tries to
get rid of her. The shameless thing! No, sir-ree! She can't shuffle
her brat off on me. Not if I know what I'm----"

She fell back in alarm. The telegram fluttered to the floor. Harvey
was standing in front of her, shaking his fist under her nose, his
face contorted by a spasm of fury.

"Don't you call my little girl a brat," he sputtered. "And don't you
dare to call my wife a shameless thing!"

"Your wife!" she gasped.

He waved his arms like a windmill.

"My widow, if you are going to be so darned particular about it," he
shouted, inanely. "Don't you dare send a telegram saying Phoebe can't
come and live with her father. I won't have it. She's coming just as
fast as I can get her here. Hurray!"

Mrs. Davis lost all of her sternness. She dissolved into tears.

"Oh, Harvey dear, do you really and truly want that child back again?"
she sniffled.

"Do I?" he barked. "My God, I should say I do! And say, I'd give my
soul if I could get Nellie back, too. How do you like that?"

The poor woman was ready to fall on her knees to him.

"For Heaven's sake--for my sake--don't speak of such a thing. Don't
try to get her back. Promise me! I'll let the child come, but--oh!
don't take Nellie back. It would break my heart. I just couldn't have
her around, not if I tried my----"

Harvey stared, open-mouthed. "I didn't mean that I'd like to have you
take her back, Minerva. You haven't anything to do with it."

She stiffened. "Well, if I haven't, I'd like to know who has. It's my
house, isn't it?"

"Don't make a scene, Minerva," he begged, suddenly aware of the
presence of a curious crowd in the front part of the store. "Go home
and I'll send the telegram. And say, if I were you, I'd go out the
back way."

"And just to think, it's only a week till the wedding day," she choked
out.

"We can put it off," he made haste to say.

"I know I shall positively hate that child," said she, overlooking his
generous offer. "I will be a real ste