says, that they excused
their leaving home by brazen lies. Have you never caught them lying to
you, Ann?"

"No, no! They've always been truthful to me."

"And to Horace?"

"I haven't asked him. But, if they hadn't been, I am sure he would have
spoken of it. Everett, let me plead with you. They have been with us a
long time, and Horace and I have grown used to them. They need our care
more than I can tell you. The boy is still very ill. Won't you let my
love for you plead for them, and withdraw from the case? Do, Dear, and
let me call Horace. Will you, Everett? He's so sad over it! Oh! may I
call him?" She had risen from her chair; but a negative shake of the
man's head made her resume her place again, and she continued, "It will
be a dreadful thing for them, if they have to go back. Now, listen,
Everett! If you will withdraw and let Horace settle it with that man,
our arrangements," her face was dyed crimson,--"I mean your plans and
mine for our wedding, shall remain as they are. Otherwise--"

"Otherwise, what?" breathed Everett, bending toward her.

"I--I shall have to postpone them." Her voice had strengthened as she
spoke, and the last statement was clear and ringing.

"Oh, you couldn't, Ann! Because I take a perfectly legitimate case,
which comes into our office, you propose to postpone our marriage?"

"But, Everett, think of what you are doing! It is as if you had taken my
brother by the throat. You were the first one to suggest that he might
love the girl. What if he does?"

"We will not talk of Horace, please." Everett turned from her as he
spoke. "You and I are the parties interested. If you will aid me, and
you should, seeing that you love me, your brother need not be
considered."

Ann rose, shuddering.

"You do not mean, Everett, that you wish to gain my consent that Fledra
and Floyd should go back to Ithaca?"

Brimbecomb also rose.

"Fledra and Floyd!" he mimicked smilingly. "What a farce it all is! And
how foolish to give them such names! I should think the governor and his
wife would feel complimented that those kids were called for them! They
are but paupers, after all!"

"Everett," stammered Ann, "am I just beginning to know you? Oh, you
can't mean it! You're but jesting with me, aren't you, Dear?" Her love
for him impelled her forward, and her slender hands fell upon his
shoulders. He slipped them off, and gathered her fingers into his.

"Ann," he said earnestly, "I'm not jesting, and