"Where are you going?"

"Oh, I've got lots to do. I thought I'd run out to Mildred's to see what
she's going to wear to-night, and then I want to go down and buy a
yard of chiffon and some narrow ribbon to make new bows for my
slippers--you'll have to give me some money----"

"If he'll give it to me!" her mother lamented, as they went toward the
front stairs together; but an hour later she came into Alice's room with
a bill in her hand.

"He has some money in his bureau drawer," she said. "He finally told me
where it was."

There were traces of emotion in her voice, and Alice, looking shrewdly
at her, saw moisture in her eyes.

"Mama!" she cried. "You didn't do what you promised me you wouldn't, did
you--NOT before Miss Perry!"

"Miss Perry's getting him some broth," Mrs. Adams returned, calmly.
"Besides, you're mistaken in saying I promised you anything; I said I
thought you could trust me to know what is right."

"So you did bring it up again!" And Alice swung away from her, strode
to her father's door, flung it open, went to him, and put a light hand
soothingly over his unrelaxed forehead.

"Poor old papa!" she said. "It's a shame how everybody wants to trouble
him. He shan't be bothered any more at all! He doesn't need to have
everybody telling him how to get away from that old hole he's worked in
so long and begin to make us all nice and rich. HE knows how!"

Thereupon she kissed him a consoling good-bye, and made another gay
departure, the charming hand again fluttering like a white butterfly in
the shadow of the closing door.

CHAPTER III

Mrs. Adams had remained in Alice's room, but her mood seemed to have
changed, during her daughter's little more than momentary absence.

"What did he SAY?" she asked, quickly, and her tone was hopeful.

"'Say?'" Alice repeated, impatiently. "Why, nothing. I didn't let him.
Really, mama, I think the best thing for you to do would be to just keep
out of his room, because I don't believe you can go in there and not
talk to him about it, and if you do talk we'll never get him to do the
right thing. Never!"

The mother's response was a grieving silence; she turned from her
daughter and walked to the door.

"Now, for goodness' sake!" Alice cried. "Don't go making tragedy out of
my offering you a little practical advice!"

"I'm not," Mrs. Adams gulped, halting. "I'm just--just going to dust the
downstairs, Alice." And with her face still averted, she went out