ningly toward the closed door of her niece's bedroom. But for
the most part she sat quietly thinking, and the tolerant, humorous curve
of her lips showed that her thoughts were far from disagreeable.

"Astonishing!" she murmured presently. "Really quite amazing! And yet
things could scarcely have turned out more--" She paused, a faint wrinkle
marring the smoothness of her forehead. "Really, I must guard against this
habit of talking to myself," she went on with mild vexation. "They say
it's one of the surest signs of age. Come in!"

The outer door opened and Buck Stratton entered. Pausing for an instant on
the threshold, he glanced eagerly about the room, his face falling a
little as he walked over to where Mrs. Archer sat.

She looked up at him for a moment in silence, surveying with frank
approval his long length, his wide chest and lean flanks, the clean-cut
face which showed such few signs of fatigue or strain. Then her glance
grew quizzical.

"You give yourself away too quickly," she smiled. "Even an old woman
scarcely feels complimented when a man looks downcast at the sight of
her."

"Rubbish!" retorted Buck. "You know it wasn't that." Bending swiftly, he
put an arm about her shoulders and kissed her. "You brought it on
yourself," he told her, grinning, as he straightened up. "You've no
business to look so--pretty."

The pink in Mrs. Archer's cheeks deepened faintly. "Aren't you rather
lavish this morning?" she murmured teasingly. "Hadn't you better save
those for--" Suddenly her face grew serious. "I do understand, of course.
She hasn't come out yet, but she's dressing. I made her eat her breakfast
in bed."

"Good business," approved Buck. "How is she?"

"Very much better, physically. Her nerves are practically all right again;
but of course she's very much depressed."

Stratton's face clouded. "She still persists--"

Mrs. Archer nodded. "Oh, dear me, yes! That is, she thinks she does. But
there's no need to look as if all hope were lost. Indeed, I'm quite
certain that a little pressure at the right moment--" She broke off,
glancing at the bedroom door. "I've an idea it would be better for me to
do a little missionary work first. Suppose you go now and come back later.
Come back," she finished briskly, "when you see my handkerchief lying here
on the window-ledge."

He nodded and was half way across the room when she called to him
guardedly:

"Oh, Buck! There's a phrase I noticed in that rather lur