ned this
odious creature from the Sawdust Pile, the head of our clan would
consider himself compromised--bound by the action of a member of his
clan, as it were. Then we'll have a wedding and after the wedding
we'll all be thrown out of The Dreamerie to make room for Master Don
and his consort. So, it appears to me, since Mr. Daney has warned you
not to tell, mother dear, that he cannot afford to tell on you
himself--no, not even to save his own skin."

"You do not understand, Elizabeth," Mrs. McKaye sobbed. "It isn't
because that stupid Andrew cares a snap of his finger for us; it's
because he's devoted to Hector and doesn't want him worried or made
unhappy."

And in this observation, it is more than probable that the lady spoke
more truly than she realized.

"Oh, well, if that's the case, it's all as clear as mud!" Jane cried
triumphantly. "If the worst should ever come to the worst, Mr. Daney
will lie like a gentleman and--why, he has already done so, silly! Of
course he has, and it's rather gallant of him to do it, I think."

"He's an imbecile, and why Hector has employed him all these
years--why he trusts him so implicitly, I'm sure I am at a loss to
comprehend." Mrs. McKaye complained waspishly.

"Dear, capable, faithful Andrew!" Elizabeth mimicked her mother's
speech earlier in the day. "Cheer up, ma! Cherries are ripe." She
snapped her fingers, swayed her lithe body, and undulated gracefully
to the piano, where she brought both hands down on the keys with a
crash, and played ragtime with feverish fury for five minutes. Then,
her impish nature asserting itself, she literally smashed out the
opening bars of the Wedding March from Lohengrin, and shouted with
glee when her mother, a finger in each ear, fled from the room.

XXXIV

Mr. Daney worked through a stack of mail with his stenographer,
dismissed her, and, in the privacy of his sanctum, lighted his pipe
and proceeded to mend his fences. In the discretion of the chief
operator at the telephone exchange, he had great confidence; in that
of Mrs. McKaye, none at all. He believed that the risk of having the
secret leak out through Nan herself was a negligible one, and, of
course (provided he did not talk in his sleep) the reason for Nan's
return was absolutely safe with him. Indeed, the very fact that The
Laird had demanded and received an explanation from the girl would
indicate to Nan that Mrs. McKaye had acted on her own initiative;
hence, Nan