es.

"The telegram that came was from Mrs. MacDonald, the child's
grandmother," she heard herself explaining, not forgetting, in her
mental confusion, to rub in the impression of Barrie's unfledged youth.
"I was surprised at not hearing, but this wire is an answer to my
letter. The old lady goes into no particulars, but she says: 'Gravest
reasons why my granddaughter should not join her mother. Hope you in
person will bring her back to me.' Now, dear Mr. Somerled, the little
girl is your protegee. It's for you to say what's to be done with her."

Somerled did not reply at once. He sat thinking, his hands thrust deep
in his pockets, making a jingling noise with keys or silver, which in
her present mood got upon Aline's nerves extraordinarily. She felt that
if he did not stop jingling and begin to speak she should scream. If he
asked to see the telegram, she was prepared to say that she had torn it
up, as an excuse not to show it to Basil, on second thoughts the affair
appearing to be Somerled's business. Somerled did not, however, make the
request, and Aline was spared an extra fib, at which she was
unreasonably pleased.

"Well?" she controlled herself to murmur, instead of screaming.

"I should feel a traitor to give the girl up," he said. "In fact, I
can't do it unless she agrees. I promised not even to advise her that
she ought to go back. She trusted me when I brought her here."

"Shall _I_ have a little talk with her?" Aline suggested, and never had
her voice been so kind and sweet. Indeed, in her trembling hope, she was
willing to be sweet and kind--with limitations.

Somerled thought again for a minute, jingling more horribly than ever.
Then, just at screaming-point once more for Aline, he said decidedly,
"No, thank you. From what Miss MacDonald's told us, it's natural her
grandmother should think there are grave objections to Mrs. Bal as a
guardian; but the old lady's two generations at least behind the age.
Youth's at the prow nowadays, and--a mother's a mother, anyhow. We'll
have to give Mrs. Bal a chance to do the maternal act----"

"She may be far, far away, even in America--or Australia," Aline
objected. "And even if----"

"Oh, Mr. Somerled, mother's coming to Edinburgh!" cried a voice at the
long window, and Barrie appeared, waving a newspaper.

The one unforeseen thing had happened. The vagabond had strayed into the
summer-house and beguiled Basil. Aline knew too well what excuse he
would make if