.

Everett made an angry gesture. "But I object to Ann having anything to
do with such--" he hesitated and finished, "such youngsters. There's no
need of it."

"Oh, Everett--but those two children must be cared for! Horace will come
back in a few minutes, and then we'll know all about it."

"In the meantime I'm hungry," grumbled Everett, "and if we're going to
the theater--"

He had no time to finish his sentence before Horace, with a grave
countenance, opened the door.

"I'm sorry, Katherine," he apologized, and then stopped; for he noticed
Everett's face dark with anger. Shellington did not forget that his
friends had come to dinner; but he had just witnessed a scene that had
touched his heart, and he determined to make both of his guests
understand it also.

[Illustration: "I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS--AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I
BE."]

"The evening has turned out differently from what Ann and I expected,"
he explained. "The fact is that sister can't go to the theater, and I
feel that I ought to stay with her. So, we'll order another dinner, and
then, Everett, if you and Katherine don't--" His fingers had touched
the bell as he was speaking; but Everett stopped him.

"If the boy is too ill to be taken to a hospital," he said coldly, "Ann
might be persuaded to leave him with the servants."

"Yes, I suggested that," answered Horace; "but she refused. The boy has
somehow won her heart, and the doctor will be here at any moment."

A servant appeared, and in a half-hour the table was spread with another
dinner. Ann's coming to the dining-room did not raise the spirits of the
party; for her eyes were red from weeping, and she refused to eat.

"I've never known before, Everett," she said, "that children could
suffer as that little boy does."

"And you shouldn't know it now, Ann, if I had my way," objected
Brimbecomb. "There's a strong line drawn between their kind and ours,
and places have been provided for such people. I really want you to come
with us tonight."

In sharp astonishment, Ann turned on him.

"Oh, I really couldn't, Everett!" she said, beginning to sob. "I
shouldn't enjoy one moment of the time, while thinking of that poor
child. You take Katherine, and say to Governor and Mrs. Vandecar that we
couldn't come tonight. Tell them about it or not as you please. They are
both good and kind, and will understand."

Her tears had ceased during the latter part of her speech; for the frown
had deepene