afterwards--and what do you think? A girl baby was born to Mrs.
Lennox, but her husband never came near her. Fortunately, the baby did
not live to embarrass her. It died, and she packed up and left Belden.
That's when she came here.

"And now," continued the village inquisitor, summing up her terrible
evidence, "what are we to think of a girl called Miss Moore in one town
and Mrs. Lennox in the other, with no sign of a wedding ring and no
sign of a husband? And what are we going to think of that baby? It
seems to me scandalous." And she leaned back in her chair and rocked
furiously.

[Illustration: Martha Perkins tells the story of Anna Moore's past
life.]

The Squire brought his hand down or the table with terrible force, his
pleasant face, was distorted with rage and indignation.

"Just what I always said would come of taking in strange creatures that
we knew nothing about. Do you think that I will have a creature like
that in my house with my wife and my niece, polluting them with her
very presence?--out she goes this minute!"

He strode over to the door through which Anna had passed a few moments
before, he flung it open and was about to call when he felt his wife
cling frantically to his arm.

"Father, don't do anything in anger that you'll repent of later. How
do you know this is true? Look how well the girl has acted since she
has been here"--and in a lower voice, "you know that Marthy's given to
talking."

The hand on the knob relaxed, a kindly light replaced the anger in his
eyes.

"You are right, Looizy, what we've heard is only hearsay, I'll not say
a word to the girl till I know; but to-morrow I am going to Belden and
find out the whole story from beginning to end."

Kate and the professor came in laden with wraps, laughing and talking
in great glee. Kate was going to ride in the sleigh with the
professor, and the discovery of a new species of potato-bug could not
have delighted him more. He was in a most gallant mood, and concluding
that this was the opportunity for making himself agreeable, he
undertook to put on Kate's rubbers over her dainty dancing slippers.

Perhaps it was a glimpse of the cobwebby black silk stocking that
ensnared his wits, perhaps it was the delight of kneeling to Kate even
in this humble capacity. In either case, the result was equally
grotesque; Kate found her dainty feet neatly enclosed in the
professor's ungainly arctics, while he hopelessly contemplated