and Mrs. McKaye, by her silence, appeared also to agree
with them. The Laird reached forth and laid his great hand over hers.

"Poor Nellie!" he murmured affectionately. "'Tis hard to stand between
our love and duty, is it not, lass? By God, sweetheart, I had to do
it. I couldn't stand to see him wedded wie a lass that any man or
woman could throw mud at." His voice shook with the intensity of his
emotion; his flashing glance swept the board in pitiful defiance. "I
have a right to protect my honor and the honor of my house!" he cried
sharply. "Is not Jesus Christ the embodiment of honor? How can He
blame me if I trust in His power and discretion. I've prayed to
Him--ach, man, how I've prayed to Him--to keep my son from makin' a
fule o' himself--"

"Now, there you go again, Hector, dear," his wife soothed. She rose
from her place at the table, came round to him, put her arms around
his great neck, and laid her cheek against his. "An open confession is
good for the soul, they say, Hector. I'm glad you've taken us into
your confidence, because it permits us to share with you an equal
burden of this heart-breaking decision. But you mustn't feel badly,
father. Haven't I told you our boy isn't going to die?"

"Do you really think so, Nellie?" he pleaded childishly, and for the
hundredth time.

"Silly old Hector! I know so." And this time there was in her voice
such a new note of confidence and in her eyes such a gleam of triumph
that she actually did succeed in comforting him. "Ah, well, God's will
be done," he said piously, and attacked his dinner again, while Mrs.
McKaye slipped out of the room and up-stairs on some pretext. Once in
her bedroom, she seized the extension telephone and called up Andrew
Daney.

"Andrew," she said softly but distinctly, "this is Nellie McKaye
speaking. Hector and I have been discussing the advisability of
sending for the Brent girl."

"I--I was goin' to take the matter up with you, Mrs. McKaye. I had a
talk with your husband this afternoon, but he was a bit wild--"

"He isn't so wild now, Andrew. He's talked it over with the girls and
me. It's a terrible alternative, Andrew, but it simply means our boy's
life for the gratification of our own selfish family pride--"

"Exactly! Exactly! And though I understand just how you feel, Mrs.
McKaye, after all, now, it's only a nine days' wonder, and you can't
keep people from talking anyhow, unless you gag the brutes. The boy
has been raving, a