llow."

He was frankly puzzled. Of the many Leilas, this was a new acquaintance,
but he said quietly, "It is necessary to make a statement--I want first
to explain."

She refreshed her rising anger with words. "I do not want any
explanation--there are things no woman can pardon. I was insulted."

"My dear Leila, upon my honour I do not know what you mean."

She was near to saying, "I am not yours, or dear." Something in the look
of the attentive face and the calmness of his manner put her on guard,
and she said only, "That is, I presume, because you are not a woman."

He said, "I do not regret that, but you clearly are thinking of one thing
and I of another. It must be the rummage-sale. I have no desire to
discuss that sorrowful business, Miss Grey. You have quite misapprehended
me. It is of Uncle Jim I want to talk--in fact, to ask advice."

"I did not understand," she said, flushing a little. His formal manner
was very unpleasant, and to be called Miss Grey was ridiculous. If he had
shown anger or even annoyance it would have eased the situation. He went
on to explain himself, rather aware of her embarrassment and not
altogether sorry for her mishap.

"I said I want help--advice. I have sent for Prof. Askew. Aunt Ann has
telegraphed him not to come. I wired him to disregard her message. He has
answered me that he will be here at the house, if the train is on time,
about six to-day. It is our last hope, but it is a hope. Aunt Ann must
see this gentleman--I say she must. Now, how can it be managed?"

Leila let fall a handful of roses into the basket and faced him. "Take
time," he said. "I do really need help--how can I make Aunt Ann see this
famous surgeon? Take time," he repeated.

Here was for Leila a rather astonishing revelation of resolute aggressive
manhood--a new John Penhallow. Relieved to have been taken out of her
angry mood, she stood still a moment while he waited on her counsel.
"There is but one way," she said, "it is the only way. I do not like
it--whether you will be willing to accept it, I do not know."

"And still you advise it?"

"I do not."

"Well, what is it?"

"At about six every afternoon, when Uncle Jim is asleep, Aunt Ann is
almost certain to be in her little library-room. Take Dr. Askew in,
present him, and walk out. She will hate it, but she is sure to be what
she is always to a guest. He will have his chance."

"Thank you, Miss Grey."--How she hated that!--"You have helped me.