very long," said Harmony softly. "Peter is
making him happy for a little while."

Back in the salon of Maria Theresa she told the whole story. Mrs. Boyer
found it very affecting. Harmony sat beside her on a stool and she kept
her hand on the girl's shoulder. When the narrative reached Anna's
going away, however, she took it away. From that point on she sat
uncompromisingly rigid and listened.

"Then you mean to say," she exploded when Harmony had finished, "that
you intend to stay on here, just the two of you?"

"And Jimmy."

"Bah! What has the child to do with it?"

"We will find some one to take Anna's place."

"I doubt it. And until you do?"

"There is nothing wicked in what we are doing. Don't you see, Mrs.
Boyer, I can't leave the boy."

"Since Peter is so altruistic, let him hire a nurse."

Bad as things were, Harmony smiled.

"A nurse!" she said. "Why, do you realize that he is keeping three
people now on what is starvation for one?"

"Then he's a fool!" Mrs. Boyer rose in majesty. "I'm not going to leave
you here."

"I'm sorry. You must see--"

"I see nothing but a girl deliberately putting herself in a compromising
portion and worse."

"Mrs. Boyer!"

"Get your things on. I guess Dr. Boyer and I can look after you until we
can send you home."

"I am not going home--yet," said poor Harmony, biting her lip to steady
it.

Back and forth waged the battle, Mrs. Boyer assailing, Harmony offering
little defense but standing firm on her refusal to go as long as Peter
would let her remain.

"It means so much to me," she ventured, goaded. "And I earn my lodging
and board. I work hard and--I make him comfortable. It costs him very
little and I give him something in exchange. All men are not alike. If
the sort you have known are--are different--"

This was unfortunate. Mrs. Boyer stiffened. She ceased offensive
tactics, and retired grimly into the dignity of her high calling of
virtuous wife and mother. She washed her hands of Harmony and Peter. She
tied on her veil with shaking hands, and prepared to leave Harmony to
her fate.

"Give me your mother's address," she demanded.

"Certainly not."

"You absolutely refuse to save yourself?"

"From what? From Peter? There are many worse people than Peter to save
myself from, Mrs. Boyer--uncharitable people, and--and cruel people."

Mrs. Boyer shrugged her plump shoulders.

"Meaning me!" she retorted. "My dear child, people are always cruel who
t